Sacrifice
by KieraPSI
Summary: Sloan, Ed and the gang team up with Lewis's protégée, a young man known as Grey Wolf, to fight both the Dominants' council and the US Government for survival. NOT part of the Cousins series. Character death, smexy times and violence within. You have been warned. Prey belongs to Bill Schmidt and I have his videotaped permission to write and publish this if no profit is made on it.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' Notes:** This story is dedicated to Denise Dahlgren for her generous contribution to a charity fundraiser and written in memory of Bennie (Benita) Egnatic my fan and fellow fanfic writer who lost her battle with cancer shortly after this story was written.

... ...

Sloan stood in the broken doorway, stunned as she stared at the overturned furniture and shattered computer equipment. Searching, she finally saw her best friend sprawled on the floor, half hidden by the loveseat. "Ed…Ed! Oh my God, Ed, are you okay?" There was no response. She ran to him, checking for a pulse. His heart was beating erratically, and his breath was rasping and shallow.

"Ed?" Sloan sobbed as she looked for her phone. She stared at the wall in shock. The cord had been yanked from it; God only knew where they had thrown the handset. "Bastards," she muttered and pulled her cell phone out to dial 911. She wiped her free hand across her eyes to clear away the tears that were obscuring her vision. "Operator, I'm in Pasadena and I need an ambulance!" she almost shouted as the cellular operator answered. They connected her to the Emergency Dispatch number. "Yes, it's an emergency. My friend was attacked, he's unconscious, and his pulse is way too fast."

After giving the dispatcher her address, Sloan checked Ed's breathing and pulse again and then punched the speed dial for Walter's phone. "Walter!" she yelled, quieting as she realized she'd reached his voice mail. "Damn it." Sloan ran to the window and stared down at the street. The limousine had pulled away, but the bitch could have left agents behind. There was no way for her to tell. Tom would have known. Oh God. She pressed her fist against her mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Walter's boss had abducted Tom! Why?

The ambulance siren finally echoed down her street. She ran down the stairs to meet the EMTs.

... ...

A half-hour later, Sloan walked woodenly down the stairs to her car. She still hadn't been able to reach Walter or Ray. Grace had promised to update Ray as soon as she heard from him and had offered to meet her at the hospital. Sloan had refused and warned Grace not to open the door to anyone but her husband.

She drove to the University hospital, glad that she could almost travel the route blindfolded. "Why?" she yelled, slamming her hand down on the wheel. "Why did they do this? Oh God, Tom…" She locked her car and trotted toward the hospital entrance. Sloan's cell phone began to ring as she stepped through the door. "Hello?"

"It's Ray. Don't say anything; I've only got a minute, need to avoid having my location traced. I talked to Grace. Dr. Attwood and I have been having some problems of our own. We'll meet you where you last watched surf movies with Tate."

"Ray, they took…"

"I know. Sloan, hang in there. You watch out for Ed, okay? We'll see you as soon as possible."

"Okay." She'd last watched surf movies with Ed here at the hospital…they didn't want anyone to know where they were or where they were going. Things must be worse than she knew…but what could be worse than an attack on Ed and her own government kidnapping Tom? It took her nearly twenty minutes of impassioned arguing with nurses and doctors to get to Ed's side. Sloan chewed on her lower lip worriedly. The IVs and telemetry leads snaked around the bed giving it an ominous appearance.

She looked up as the doctor returned. "I have the toxicology reports back," he told her. "I've never see quite this combination of drugs used in concert before. It's like a sedative cocktail." He snorted in disbelief. "What did they think they were sedating, an elephant?"

"No," Sloan croaked out, her voice raw, "a member of the new species. Ed just got in their way."

"Quite frankly, Dr. Parker, your friend is lucky to be alive. If the EMTs hadn't kept him going once he arrested and gotten him here and on life support so quickly, well…"

Sloan nodded, sniffling. "Yeah."

"We're working on flushing the drugs out of his system with a saline IV. As soon as he's conscious we'll also be encouraging him to take as much water by mouth as he can tolerate. Other than that, there's little we can do other than keep him functioning until the drugs are expelled."

"I understand. Um, Doctor? What if we have to move him? The people that did this, they might come back to finish the job, you know, not leave any witnesses."

"Whoa. Uh, well, he can't be moved any time soon. I have a call in to LAPD. I'm sure that we can have an officer…"

NO!" Sloan shouted, and then clapped her hand over her mouth as other people in the large room turned to look. "Sorry." She moved closer to the doctor and lowered her voice. "You can't bring the police in on this, especially the local precinct. Their lieutenant…well, we think he's a collaborator with the new species."

The young doctor blinked, looking confused. "Then, wouldn't he be eager to help you? If our government abducted a member of the new species and your friend was trying to prevent it, wouldn't the new species and their supporters…" he trailed off as she shook her head vehemently.

"The man who was kidnapped was cooperating with us. So we can't let his people know where he is because they want him back. I know, it's confusing."

"But he if he was cooperating with us, then why did the government…"

"THAT, is the million dollar question. Why? He was giving us everything he could." Sloan sank back down into the chair and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know why, and that is scaring the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry. Look, I've already called the police; I can't call them back and say it was a mistake."

"Can you tell them the victim regained consciousness and left and move Ed to a private room? I'll pay for it," she offered, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Yeah, sure. That actually happens sometimes…patients coming to and taking off, I mean. I'll go take care of it."

... ...

Sloan checked the clock. It had been over nine hours since they'd moved Ed into a private room hidden in the back of the maternity floor, and nearly twelve hours since she'd found him on the floor of her apartment. Ed was still unconscious. She held his right hand in her own. "Come on, Ed. Don't give up on me. Who's going to bring me down to earth when I go off on one of my tangents? And who's going to make sure I eat more than coffee and rice cakes?" She laid her head down on the side of the bed, moaning. "I'll even watch surf movies…as many as you want," she pleaded.

"You promise?" he rasped.

"Ed!" Sloan sat up and threw her arms around her friend. "You're awake!"

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, careful. I'm feeling kinda woozy here."

"Sorry." Her lips twitched as she tried not to grin too hard.

"They drugged me, didn't they? Men in dark uniforms and baseball caps, flak jackets even. Oh God. Sloan…they took Tom!"

"Calm down, Ed. I know. I got back just as they were forcing him into a van."

"He was putting up a hell of a fight in the apartment. I saw them drug him…damn, he's strong. I had no idea."

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Even drugged and under the influence of the genogenesis serum it took four of them to get him into that van." She struggled to suppress a sob. "Oh, Ed, I couldn't help him!"

"Hey…he'll understand."

"Will he? Ed, it was the bitch in the limo, Walter's boss. Those were her people." She pressed a hand to her mouth, squeezing her eyes closed to force back the pain. "And they shut down the lab, everything's gone!"

"What? Oh shit. That's bad."

"Why would they do that? Tom was cooperating with us, giving us everything we wanted."

Ed sighed. "Ah, Sloan? There's only one reason. Remember Walter having that argument on the phone last week?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I overheard part of his end of it. He was telling her that whatever she wanted was intrusive, unethical, and inhumane." He paused, scrunching up his nose and eyes like he always did when he was telling her something she didn't want to hear. "Sloan, they probably want to experiment on him."

"No. I…no! They can't!"

"Not unless they tuck him away somewhere so no one knows about it," he responded dryly.

"Oh my God! Ed, that's…that's horrible!"

"Yeah. So what are we gonna do about it?"

"We are going to get you to drink some of this water."

"_We_ aren't thirsty. Must be the IV. And, damn, they've got me hooked to a catheter, I hate those things."

"I know. But that's the point."

"That I hate catheters?"

"No. You've got to get lots of fluids in you to flush out the drugs. They used what the ER doctor called a sedative cocktail. There was no way to neutralize any of the drugs safely because of the combination."

"Jeez, no wonder I feel like my head's wrapped in a couple of layers of wool."

"Yep. Now here, drink."

"Yes, mom."

... ...

Sloan slept through the ringing of her cell phone. Ed opened his eyes groggily, then reached out and plucked the phone from where she had left it on the edge of the table. "Hello," he managed to mutter.

There was silence for a moment. "Ed? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Walter?"

"I'm glad you're feeling better. Where are you?"

"Better? Huh, well, that's debatable." He pulled himself upright and looked around, then subsided on the pillows, totally confused. "Uh, other than in a hospital, I have no clue where I am, Walter." Ed frowned as yet another female patient was wheeled past his door. "But I feel like a rooster in a hen house for some reason."

"What?"

"All the other patients I can see are women."

"Give me that," Sloan said, taking the phone from him. "Walter, where are you?" She listened a minute. "Stay there, I'll come and get you." After closing the compact phone and putting it in her purse she turned back to him. "Rooster, hen house? Ed, you're going to be living that comment down for a long time."

"Hey, give me a break, I'm sedated."

"Uh huh. I'll be right back."

"Sloan, hey…Sloan!" She kept on going and closed the door behind her. "Damn," he muttered. "I still don't know where I am."

... ...

Walter Attwood looked up at Ray's nudge. "Here she comes," Ray told him. He stood and joined the former LAPD detective. "Hello, Sloan," he said as she rounded the corner.

"Walter, Ray! I am so glad to see you. Oh my god, Walter, you're bleeding…"

"Not anymore. It's okay, Sloan," he continued as she began to shake. "It's only a few cuts from broken glass. I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"You first.

"Um, Tom…oh god. Ed was pretty happy with his genogenesis serum, and Tom insisted he test it on him…and it worked, but…"

"What?" Walter forced himself to lower his voice. "Stop. We'll talk about this in more secure surroundings."

"Right. Come on, Ed's this way."

They followed Sloan through hospital to, of all places, the OB-GYN ward. They found Ed in a private room in the back of the ward.

"Walter, Ray! Hey, glad to see you. Where the hell am I? Sloan won't say."

"You're in the Maternity unit, Ed," Walter said dryly. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"Very funny."

"The ER doc was nice enough to hide him from your boss," Sloan interjected.

Walter and Ray exchanged glances. "Why are _you_ hiding from her?" Walter asked. Much to his surprise, Sloan's eyes filled with tears and she turned away, hugging her arms to her abdomen. "Sloan?"

"It's my fault," Ed muttered. "I should never have let him test the serum."

"No, you shouldn't have. That was totally unscientific, not to mention danger…"

Ray cut him off. "I think he knows that, no sense in hitting him over the head with it."

"You're right.

"No, it's okay. It was a stupid move, criminally stupid."

Sloan turned around. "Ed, it's not your fault, Tom insisted." She sighed then looked up at Walter. "Her people drugged and kidnapped Tom. They've also closed down the lab."

"The lab I was aware of. Sloan, I'm sorry." It was Walter's turn to sigh. "This is partially my fault as well. If I hadn't humiliated her, she might not have taken such a drastic step so quickly."

"Humiliated her?"

"Sloan, we were meeting Homo-dominant representatives of a coexistence faction, a group that wants to live in peace with us. The meeting was an ambush."

"They tried to kill you?"

"No. The ambush was for both the dominants and us."

"Your boss? Wait, she wanted to kill both them and you? But, they would know that they didn't do it…and if you had been killed, we'd have thought that they had done it."

"Yes."

"Jesus, Walter," Ed spoke up. "Is she trying to start a war?"

"Yes."

Sloan gasped. "But that's…that's horrible."

"Sloan, certain powers within our government decided it was best to force an outright war, now, while we have a hope of winning it."

"But if some of the dominants want peace, shouldn't we take that chance?"

"If we didn't have Tom as an example of these people's better natures, I'd have said no."

"But we do…or did. Walter, why did they take him? He was helping us!"

"Wait a minute…what does this have to do with humiliating your boss?" Ed asked.

He looked at Ray who shrugged.

Ray began to explain. "We weren't sure who had set up the ambush at first," he said in his slow half-drawl. "Then I checked out the bullets in the car, they were government-issue, the kind the covert ops boys generally use."

Ed frowned. "So, that proves…?"

"Not a damn thing, it's circumstantial, which is why we confronted her directly. Picked her up, took her for a little ride. She admitted it, outright. Even admitted she'd planned for Walter to be killed." Ray looked at Sloan. "We took her phone to run the numbers off of it, to see how far this goes. Then we dropped her off in the middle of nowhere."

"She probably had already planned to take Tom and close the lab at some point in the near future," Walter told them. "Once I was out of the picture, she knew she'd have a hell of a time keeping you two in line. But I don't think she'd planned to do it immediately. Our actions likely forced her hand."

"You know," Sloan said quietly. "I've never really wanted to hurt anyone before. But she's…_inspired_ me." She sighed, and then looked up at him. "So, what do we do now?"

"We get Ed out of here, and we find a way to help Tom."


	2. Chapter 2

Sloan frowned as she peered out from behind the curtain in the motel room. Walter had been gone for nearly six hours and she was starting to worry. "You know, that's like watching a pot," Ed muttered from his spot on the double bed furthest from the window.

"I know, I know…but I can't help it. I'm worried."

"Oh, and I'm not?"

"You don't look it. You look way too relaxed."

"Well, you know…I've got my surf movies, my Chow Fun, and my Dew. I'm in heaven," he said, sarcasm coloring his voice.

"Right." Sloan smiled indulgently and mussed his hair as she moved past on the way to the kitchenette to grab a Pepsi from the small refrigerator. "So tell me again, why are we eating Chinese?"

"Chinese food rules. Besides, I'm the invalid. When you're the invalid you can pick that crappy Tempura stuff you like."

"I'll have you know that Shrimp Tempura is the food of the gods," she said, dropping down on the end of the bed.

"Hey, I can't see the TV."

She snorted and stood up in time to hear a knock at the door. Sloan moved to peer through the peephole, sighing with relief as she recognized Walter. She flipped back the security bar and opened the door.

Walter stepped in followed by a very attractive young man with long dark hair. Ray was nowhere to be seen. "This is Charlie Grey Wolf," Walter began. "He's agreed to help us find Tom. Wolf, this is Dr. Sloan Parker and Dr. Ed Tate, our leading researchers from the project."

The man nodded. Sloan smiled and stood to greet him. As she stepped closer, she realized he was taller than she had first supposed, at least 6'2", and despite the obvious Native American heritage in his name and features, his skin tone was rather light and his eyes were a topaz gold rather than the deep brown she had expected. His eyebrows rose as he obviously noticed her curiosity. "Blackfoot on my mother's side," he said. "My father's people were mostly German."

"Ah, I…um, I'm sorry, it was none of my business."

"Not a problem. I don't mind honest curiosity." His voice was a breathy tenor; it matched the dancer's litheness of his body.

"Wolf is an ex-Ranger. Still works for our government, but on contract now," Walter informed them. "The CIA pulled a deal breaker on him, and he figures he _owes _them for the trouble."

"Wait, what does the CIA have to do with anything?"

"My contact is a high-level official in the CIA."

"Your boss, you mean."

Walter shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Technically speaking, for this project Ms. Burns was my superior. However, I do not work for the CIA, so she is not now and never has been my boss, despite her pretensions to the contrary."

Sloan shook her head. "Walter, just who _do_ you work for? Don't you think it's about time you were up front with us at least?"

Wolf laughed. Sloan had forgotten for a moment that he was there. "Damn, Walter. Close-mouthed as ever. Never play poker with this man," Wolf said, directing his last statement to her and Ed. "My people have the reputation for stoic expressions but he outdoes even our stereotype."

"Thank you," Walter said sarcastically. "I work for John Maxwell, Sloan. Directly. I was the scientific liaison between him and the various agencies in the Intelligence Community. When we realized that we were dealing with a new species John arranged for me to join the team our Intel picked out as the one most likely to dig up the truth the soonest. He wanted the information contained as long as possible, to give the government time to develop a position."

"A position? Forcing a war is a position?"

"No, Sloan. I don't believe that's the official position. That's why we're investigating Alison Burns' contacts. I think this is the work of power brokers within our government, trying to get an edge over their competitors."

"That's disgusting."

"Yes, it is."

"Now that we're agreed on that," Wolf interjected. "Shall we get down to business?"

"What can we do?" she asked.

"You can stay safe until we locate your missing lab rat."

Sloan gasped. "Hey, man…" Ed spoke up.

"How dare you! Tom is our friend. He…he…" Sloan broke off, trembling with anger.

Ed was on his feet. "Take it back," he insisted.

Wolf shrugged. "You're the one who was testing experimental serums on him."

"Damn it," Ed grated. "That's not fair, he insisted."

"Whatever. You people stay safe until we find Daniels, then we bring you in."

... ...

Sloan was going to drive him insane, Ed decided. He watched from the bed as she rearranged their meager stash of belongings for what had to be the twentieth time that day. The craziest thing about it was that she was not normally anal. Neat, yes…but this? "Hey, you want to give it a rest, Sloan?" he suggested as she picked up the duffel bag that Ray had picked up from his apartment for him.

"What?" Sloan looked around the room, her expression a bit distracted. "Oh. I guess everything's already pretty much straightened up, huh?"

"You could say that. So, what, you tired of surf movies already? What about your promise?"

She smiled wanly. "Sorry. I haven't kept up my end of the bargain very well."

"It's okay. I understand, you're worried about Tom."

"It's been over a week, Ed! Anything could have happened to him…he could be…"

He unfolded his long legs, climbed to his feet and hugged Sloan close. "I know, Sloan. You've got to hang in there. Tom's pretty tough, he'll be okay."

"How tough can he be, drugged and under a scalpel?" she sniffed.

"We don't know that for sure. Maybe they'll be trying to get information out of him first. They don't know about the memory blocks, so they may be…"

"Torturing him for information he doesn't have? Jeez, Ed. That makes me feel SO much better. Oh God. What if they question him and his heart stops again? Will they even try to revive him?"

"Whoa, of course they will. He's worth a hell of a lot more to them alive. Take it easy." He rubbed her back soothingly, trying to get her to stop shaking. This was not going well, but then, his lack of people skills was the main reason he'd gone into research instead of practicing medicine. He'd give damn near anything for a decent 'bedside manner' right now though. "I'm sure Walter's contact will find him soon. You'll see, we'll have Tom safe in no time."

"That…that arrogant, vain, smart ass…ohhhh."

"Didn't like Wolf much, did you?"

She pulled back and looked up at him grimacing. "It shows, huh?"

"Just a bit."

"Sorry. He just rubbed me the wrong way; there's something about him that bothers me. He reminds me of someone or something…and I can't put my finger on it. That is so frustrating."

"I can imagine."

"No, really Ed. This thing he reminds me of is frightening. That much I can remember."

"You're serious. Something about him scares you? I mean, besides the fact that Walter pretty much confirmed the guy's a paid assassin."

"Yes. I don't…it's something I feel, on the edge of my…I don't know how to describe it, Ed, but it's almost like an itch. A creepy itch." She shivered.

... ...

A sound at the door startled them and they tensed until they heard Walter's voice. "It's me, Sloan, Ed. Let me in."

Sloan pulled away and dashed over to the door to open it. She checked through the peephole first. "Damn. The _itch_ is back."

Ed chuckled. "Maybe he has good news."

"I'm an itch, Dr. Parker?" Wolf said, laughing as he slipped past Walter and through the door. "Well, you're welcome to scratch me, hey that might even be fun."

Sloan frowned up at him sourly, noting that his smile didn't reach his eyes. They were as expressionless as a statue's. "No thank you. Do you have news for us?"

He shook his head. "What? No, 'How are you, Wolf?''Were you in any danger, Wolf?''Take me to bed, Wolf.'…Ow!" He backed off, chuckled and picked up the VHS tape that had hit him in the shoulder. "Hmm, 'Surf Hawaii IV', now that could arouse violent tendencies in anyone."

"Wolf," Walter began. "This is no time for games."

"You people are no fun." He shrugged, the long braid that confined his hair swinging with the motion. "Fine. I know where Daniels is being held."

"Then we can get him out!"

"Hold on. No. We don't have the manpower, that place is guarded better than Fort Knox, and I'm speaking from experience."

"We've got to do something."

"And we will. But we need help; reinforcements."

"Wolf has specific reinforcements in mind…from an unusual source," Walter commented.

Sloan frowned. She hadn't been kidding about that itch, and she was itching like crazy right now. "Go on."

"Well, it seems the CIA is holding a few other members of your new species in a different facility. That one isn't nearly as secure, I don't know why. I propose to break them out, offering them their freedom in return for their help in retrieving Daniels."

"What if they don't care about Tom?"

"One of them cares, Sloan," Walter told her. "The group of dominants Wolf wants to release includes Lewis."

"What?" She stared at the ex-ranger in shock. "You've got to be kidding! He's a very dangerous man."

Wolf shrugged. "So am I. We should get along just fine."

"You don't understand…"

"I understand that you want Daniels out and that we don't have the personnel to accomplish the mission. This Lewis has access to resources we do not. He wants Daniels too. Now, the trick will be to keep Daniels free from Lewis once we've retrieved him from Burns." Wolf shrugged. "I'm willing to bet that we can manage that risk."

"Well, I'm n…"

"Ah, ah, ah…think about it. Your man will die, sooner or later, if we leave him in the CIA's hands. From what I understand, this Lewis has gone to a great deal of trouble, even sacrificing another of his people to keep Daniels alive. Which is the greater risk?"

"Damn it!"

Wolf grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders. "I knew you'd see it my way."


	3. Chapter 3

Ray Peterson was a troubled man. Not on his own behalf. He'd sent Grace and Matt to her cousin's home in Philadelphia. Cousin Patrice was on her eighth husband and her twelfth city in the past fifteen years. If her own family couldn't keep track of where she was or what her name was most of the time, there was no way anyone else was going to find them there. Grace only knew where Patrice was because she had run into her accidentally while chaperoning Matt's Cub Scout troop on a trip to the 'Cradle of Liberty'. No, he was reasonably certain his family was safe. What bothered him was being at war, so to speak, with representatives of the government he'd sworn to serve, first in the Marines, and later as a Police Officer. It just bothered him, plain and simple, even if those representatives were breaking the laws and rights he'd sworn to uphold.

He peered through the high-powered binoculars again. Still no unusual movement. How long was this going to take? They were waiting for Wolf's men to signal that they had secured the interior. Ray didn't like this at all. Sloan's itch aside, there was just something unnatural about that group. He wished Walter hadn't dismissed his suggestion that they use the portable testing kit on them. Maybe he was paranoid, but paranoia had kept him alive more than once in 'Nam. Ray jumped before he recognized the hand on his shoulder as Walter's. "Sorry," the other man apologized, half under his breath. "Still nothing?"

"Not a damn thing…wait," Ray paused as a shadow moved…or rather, a figure he had mistaken for a shadow moved. He watched avidly as the shadow detached itself from an inside wall and scuttled to the gate. A moment later the gate guard slumped to the ground, and the shadow took his place. "They've got the gate."

"About time."

Ray waited until the gate began to open. "Yep, time to move in."

... ...

Sloan sat nervously in the back of the truck with Ed, preparing to treat casualties. Wolf had recruited several mercenaries that he worked with from time to time to assist them in raiding the facility where Alison Burns was keeping Lewis and several other unknown dominants. The mercenaries had been promised a substantial sum of money, an amount that made her gasp, but Wolf had told them not to worry about it, that he 'had it covered.'

She started as the truck began to move. "Looks like we're on," Ed told her from his spot on the other side of the converted cargo area.

"Yes." Sloan shuddered. "I just had an awful thought. What if we have to treat Lewis for injuries?"

"Then we treat him for injuries," Ed shrugged. "We've got to try and think of him as a dangerous ally instead of a dangerous enemy, Sloan. Wolf says that we need his help to get Tom back."

"Wolf says, _Wolf says_. Like that makes it a statement of fact."

"He knows better than we do. Besides, Walter trusts him."

"Walter used to trust Alison Burns."

"Good point." Ed looked up from the array of trauma supplies he'd been preparing. "Sloan, do you think this is some sort of elaborate plot for her to get to us?"

She thought about that for a few moments. "No. But I don't think this is on the up and up, either." Sloan sighed. "I don't know what to think any more. I just want to get Tom back and get away from all of this cloak and dagger garbage."

"Yeah, me too. And to think, I went into research thinking my life would be boring."

"Oh, so you're the one who jinxed us, huh? Thanks a lot."

"Anytime."

They waited in silence as the truck moved steadily, then came to a sudden halt. Exchanging glances, the both moved to pick up the weapons that Wolf had insisted on them carrying. Sloan grimaced as she picked up the SW-99 that had been fitted for her small hands. While Tom had taught her how to handle guns safely after the incident with the Lynch clone, she still hated the things.

A knock in the agreed upon pattern sounded on the door before the latch was drawn back. They sighed in unison, and waited for the door to open.

... ...

Ed frowned as the door opened to reveal Wolf and two of his mercenaries, each supporting another man. He didn't recognize two of the injured, but the third was Lewis. A fourth mercenary stood back a bit from the truck, carrying another man over his shoulder.

"Four patients for you so far, Doc. Feeling useful yet?" Wolf asked.

"Yeah, sure. Get them in here," Ed told the grinning man. He looked over the patients…he forced himself to think of them that way, as Wolf and the mercenaries sat them on a bench fastened to one side of the truck. The fourth man was lifted up into the van and set down on the ersatz operating table.

The three seated men appeared battered and bruised, but all seemed to be breathing without too much difficulty, and he didn't see any copiously bleeding wounds. The fourth man was another story. His breathing was ragged, and he had what looked like an open surgical incision extending from his lower right abdomen to a point on his back. "Jesus," Ed breathed. "What happened to him?" He didn't wait for an answer, and handed Sloan the O2 canister and headgear. "Get it on him," he ordered, reaching for a bottle of antiseptic solution and the sterile sponges.

"Burns' pet scientists were vivisecting him," Wolf called over his shoulder as he hopped back out of the truck. "I'm going to leave Dave here with you for security," he continued, nodding at one of the mercenaries. "This is the last of the prisoners, we're out of here."

"Vivisecting…oh my God," Sloan said, looking distinctly unwell. "Do you think that's what…"

"Don't even think about it, Sloan," Ed told her. "I need you to help me here and now. We'll worry about Tom later."

"Right. Sorry."

"Does anyone know exactly what they did to him?" Ed looked at Wolf, the mercenaries, and at the other patients. No one responded. "Shit. I don't want to just stitch him up and find out too late they messed with something we need to fix." The door slammed shut and the truck began to move. One of the recovered dominants stood and moved shakily towards them. Lewis.

"I don't know," he said. "But I might be able to find out."

Ed felt Sloan shiver beside him. "How?" he asked. "He's not exactly in any shape to tell us."

"Tom didn't tell you about all of our abilities? How…remiss."

"We know you can sense things sometimes," Sloan managed to say. "Is that how you're going to try and find out what's happened to him?"

"Very good, _Dr._ Parker. Yes, I'll use an extension of that ability to see if I can feel anything wrong with him. It's certainly not a foolproof diagnostic tool, but if there are any glaring problems, I should be able to identify them."

"That's better than my going in and poking around; I could do more harm than good that way."

"But think of how much you could learn," Lewis said snidely.

"I'm a doctor. I'm here to help. Don't lump me in with the ethically deficient bastards that did this."

"I stand corrected."

"Maybe you'd better sit corrected," Sloan said. "You don't look terribly steady."

The man smiled slowly. "Why, _Dr._ Parker. I'm touched by your concern."

"Don't be. Just sit and try and find out what's wrong with this man." She shoved her chair at him and glared until he sat in it.

... ...

Lewis suppressed a groan as he lowered himself into the chair. He pushed aside the pain from the repeated beatings with titanium batons. The cowardly humans had drugged him then attacked him, venting their frustration at their failure to obtain any useful information. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He didn't know the young man on the table by name, only by status, and that status wasn't much. However, he wasn't about to let the boy die in such an ignominious manner; at least not if he could prevent it.

He leaned closer and focused, letting the electromagnetic energies produced by the other's body wash over his senses. Allowing the picture to build in his mind, atom by atom, he noted the areas where the picture was 'off'.

Suddenly Lewis looked up. "They took a kidney, and none too carefully. Wait, they also took other organs…the appendix and gall bladder."

"Okay, we can deal with that," Tate muttered. "At least they didn't take anything he can't live without."

He grabbed the doctor's hand as Tate reached for the surgical tray. "On the contrary. Unlike humans, our appendix serves an important purpose. He will die without it; his body will fill with poisons in less than 48 hours. Let him go now."

"No. You…are you sure about this?"

"Of course. I don't want the child to die. But there's nothing to be done. Even our own physicians couldn't save him. Not with what you have here." He pushed himself to his feet and looked into the fluttering eyes of the dying boy…young man. "Who shall I say endured so bravely?" he asked.

"Jason," he gasped brokenly. "Jason, son of William."

Lewis nodded and slipped his hands around the dying man's neck. "You've earned your rest, Jason," he said softly, then snapped it.

"Oh my God!" Dr. Parker yelled. "You killed him!"

"Sloan…" Dr. Tate began.

"No, _Dr._ Parker. I ended his pain. He was already dead." He ignored her outraged expression and collapsed back into the chair.

... ...

Ed watched Sloan clench her fists. Her lips were pressed together, a sure sign that she was building up a head of steam to vent at someone. That someone would be Lewis. While he couldn't condone what the dominant had done, he couldn't really condemn it. And the other dominants had looked on calmly, without protest either before or after the deed. If they didn't think the mercy killing to be out of line, who was he to complain? "Sloan, ixnay on the antray," he muttered just before Sloan opened her mouth. She looked at him in surprise, then her eyes widened with hurt. Lewis' chuckle did not help. Evidently the pig Latin hadn't been subtle enough. "Look, Sloan. We don't know these people, not really. All I could have done for the guy is give him painkillers and watch him die. Let's not judge, okay?"

She sighed and subsided back onto the bench. "You're right. Okay. Who _can_ we help?"

Ed grinned as he carefully moved the dead man to a spot on the floor off to the side. That was the Sloan he knew and loved, emotional but practical. "Lewis, you look like you're hurting. Is it anything we can treat?"

"Take care of them first, my injuries aren't as serious," the older man responded, gesturing with his chin at the two dominants seated on the bench.

The two looked at each other then one tried to stand. Sloan steadied him before he toppled over, and helped him to the table. "Okay," Ed said quietly. "Do you know what your injuries are, or should I start with an exam?"

The man looked him in the eyes, then his own unfocused and he began to slump.

"Oh shit." Ed grabbed him and laid him back on the table. "Damn it, I need a light."

"Mag light do, doc?"

Ed looked up. The mercenary, Dave, was holding out a compact flashlight. "Yeah, perfect." Taking it, he tested the injured dominant's pupils. "Uneven and dilated." A quick examination of the man's head showed blunt trauma. "This man has a severe concussion at the very least. We should really get him a CAT scan. With the severity of the head trauma, he could easily have a subdural hematoma." He quickly checked the rest of the injured man's body. Finding nothing other than bruises and scrapes, he turned his attention back to the head injury. "I hate to give him anything, since I don't know how he'll react to it, but…"

"What are you considering, doctor?" Lewis asked, his voice sounding tired.

"Huh? Oh. Well, I was thinking about something to slow the bleeding, but I'm also concerned about a clot breaking off and causing a stroke. Damn, I don't know. This isn't really my field. Give me a disease and I'm on it, but injuries?"

Lewis frowned thoughtfully. "Most of your drugs won't have the reaction you expect, so it's best you avoid medicating any of us."

"Okay, well, then the best I can do until we get a CAT scan is to give him an icepack and have him lie down and rest."

Sloan got up to help get the man off the table and found a free spot on the floor. Ed handed her a pillow and blanket, then pulled one of the ice packs from the small freezer. He looked at the third man as Sloan took it from him.

"Next?" The third man waited until Sloan straightened up to help him before attempting to rise. He leaned heavily on her, favoring one leg. Ed moved to help, and between them they lifted the patient to the table.

"Two bullets," he told them. "One hit the tibia; the other is embedded in muscle. I was fortunate."

"That's fortunate?"

He shrugged. "They were aiming for my knee."

"Ouch. Yeah, I guess you were lucky at that." He gently examined the entry wounds, and then cut away the pants leg. "Okay, let's clean this up a bit first." Reaching for the antiseptic and sponges, he swabbed the area, and then grabbed a slender pair of forceps. "You want something for the pain before I go in after the slugs? I can give you something topical."

"No. I'll be better able to direct you without it."

"Okay, your leg, your call. Say, what's your name?"

He looked at Lewis before answering. After the older man nodded he said, "Ben."

"Hello Ben. I'm Ed Tate. You can call me Ed if you want, but I'll answer to any variation of doctor, or of my name. If you're announcing dinner I'll even answer to 'hey you'." He sighed at the lack of response. "Sloan, no one appreciates my bedside manner," he complained.

"He didn't throw up on you, did he?" Sloan asked, reminding him that Tom had lost his lunch after their experiment with the genogenesis serum.

"No, no he did not."

"There you go. You're improving already."

Ed chuckled quietly as Ben and Lewis exchanged confused glances. "You had to be there," Ed told them as he slipped the forceps into the wound.

Ben clenched his teeth, and began taking measured shallow breaths. "About three millimeters to your left," he hissed. "And maybe a centimeter deeper."

"Okay…got it," Ed muttered as he felt the instrument strike a hard object. He slowly opened the head of the forceps, and pushed in until he could feel the gripping surface scrape along the slug. Then he closed it, used the lock on the base of the handle to secure the object, and began extracting it. "Sorry," he said as Ben's face contracted in a grimace. "Okay, one down. You want to rest a bit before we take care of the other one?"

Ben frowned while Ed irrigated the wound with more of the antiseptic rinse. "I don't see any point to that."

"Uh huh. You're the 'one agonizing rip' kind of person, I take it?" Ed sighed as Ben's expression told him that his comment on Band-Aid removal preferences had flown over the dominant's head. "Never mind. Where is the second bullet in relation to the first? Well, other than through the other entry point."

"About three centimeters south in a straight line. And much deeper, of course."

"Of course. I wish we could x-ray it and see how badly the bone is damaged."

"There are several chips out of it and a stress fracture is developing from my walking on it."

Ed looked up at the man's face. "You know that for a fact?"

"Of course. It's my body."

"Okay. Let's get that bullet and the bone chips out, and then we'll close both wounds and cast the leg for support. Sound good?"

"Yes."

"Doctoring made simple…I could get used to this." Ed dealt with the second bullet and the bone chips quickly then stitched the layers of muscle and flesh. He dug through the casting supplies. "Hmm. Maybe a brace would be a better idea. I can't cast over the wound. Tell you what; we'll just splint the leg for now. Then we'll get you a brace and crutches."

Ben stared at him silently.

"You've got a better idea?"

Ed heard Lewis laughing behind him. "Doctor, I believe your casual attitude has finally overstepped Ben's tolerance. Give him your medical orders."

"Right. Okay." He splinted the leg to immobilize the knee and stepped back. "Stay off the leg completely until we get it properly braced. Don't put any weight on it or I'll have you in a full leg cast. Trust me, you'd hate it." He motioned for Ben to slide to the edge of the table, then put an arm around his waist and helped him hop back to the bench. "Lewis, your turn."

Lewis had already levered himself onto the table by the time Ed turned around. "I need abrasions cleaned and my ribs strapped," he said as he pulled off his shirt. Sloan gasped as a mottled pattern of bruises and bloody abrasions was revealed. Your compatriots didn't appreciate my sense of humor," Lewis explained.

"They're no compatriots of mine," Sloan said vehemently.

"Really _Dr._ Parker? And what did you expect from them? Polite requests for information and luxury accommodations?"

She flushed. "No, of course not. I don't know what I expected. Maximum security prison, I guess."

... ...

Lewis tilted his head and stared at them for a full minute. "You truly are surprised. How naïve of you."

"Yes, that I'm guilty of," Dr. Parker agreed. "I'm sorry," she continued, gesturing at the dead man and the three wounded. "For all of this. It's wrong and it shouldn't have happened, not to anyone, no matter what they may have done."

"This is war, _Dr._ Parker…" Lewis began.

"Oh, please. If you have such contempt for my degree, just call me Sloan."

"Very well, Sloan. After all, we _are_ old friends."

"Just because I can't condone someone torturing you doesn't mean you're my friend," Dr. Parker…Sloan told him.

"Ah, but I am your friend, Sloan. You do want my help in recovering Tom, do you not?"

"Yes. That was the whole point of this."

"What, you weren't out to right wrongs?" he asked facetiously.

"I didn't know a wrong had been done," she sighed. "Though I'd like to think that if I had, I would have helped stop it even if it didn't mean rescuing Tom."

"You'd have risked your life for me?"

"I honestly don't know. Probably not, but I wouldn't have just sat quietly and let it happen."

"I see. You'd have written your congressman, I suppose."

"That's not fair."

"Perhaps staged a public protest? Called Amnesty International?"

"Look, give us break," Tate interjected. "The fact that this kind of thing happens is a shock to us. This is America, things like this aren't supposed to happen here."

Lewis shook his head, smiling his contempt. Delusional. Trusting fully in their corrupt government. "I've given you several 'breaks' doctor. Broken ribs. You were going to strap them?"

"Uh, yeah." The tall human rooted through his supplies for a few minutes before locating the needed materials. "Don't bitch about me asking…do you want painkillers?"

"No thank you, Dr. Tate."

A painful half-hour later, his ribs were strapped and the truck was pulling off the smoothness of the highway to a somewhat rutted road. Sloan Parker had subsided into a corner as soon as Tate no longer needed her help. She periodically checked the pupils of the unconscious soldier, and had changed the ice pack. Tate had cleaned up his equipment, and put the extra supplies away. Lewis frowned as he studied the mercenary who waited silently and all but motionless by the door. He wondered if the humans even suspected…

... ...

Walter looked around carefully as Ray brought the truck to a halt. The abandoned buildings huddled together like neglected geriatric patients, seemingly unable to stand without the support of their equally elderly neighbors. There was no sign of anything more to the property despite Wolf's assurances that it would prove a safe base for them.

His eyebrows rose as a wall on the end building began to swing out, smoothly and silently. A muscular man dressed in desert camouflage soon came into view, pushing the tricked door open. "Humph. Very nice, very nice indeed," he breathed as the truck's lights revealed a rickety appearing floor sliding back to expose a ramp that led underground.

Ray leaned forward on the wheel and gave him a sidelong look. "I have to admit, I'm impressed."

"Yes. I didn't realize Wolf was this well supported."

"I guess assassination pays very well these days. Walt, I'm a practical man, I know certain things have to get done and somebody's got to be doin' it, but damn it, I hate to look the evidence in the face, you know what I mean?"

Walter sighed. "I've looked it in the face every day for the past eighteen years, Ray." He met the former police detective's eyes. "It hasn't gotten any easier." They waited in silence until the man opening the door waved them forward. "Come into my parlor, said the spider…"

"Ah, hell. I wish you hadn't said that," Ray muttered, loosening his collar with a nervous hand.

... ...

Wolf grinned as he climbed out of the purposely nondescript Chevy. The operation had gone like clockwork. His grin faded a tad as he recalled interrupting the vivisection in progress. Well, somewhat tardy clockwork. He was going to take some heat for that one. The important thing was freeing the others while collecting Dr. Parker and her friends. Now that had been a coup.

He loped over to the truck in time to see Dr. Attwood swing down from the passenger seat. "Piece of cake," he said to scientist-cum-government agent. "What did I tell you?"

"It went very smoothly," the doctor agreed. "I'm glad my information was still valid."

"Yeah, well, Alison wouldn't have figured you to go after Lewis."

"I'd have to admit that was the furthest thing from my mind." The portly man paused visibly. "Wolf…I don't understand something. You obviously have a good support network here, why would manpower be a factor in retrieving Tom Daniels?"

"Ah, well. You see, it's not so much the availability as the command-ability, Walter." He glanced over to the truck where Dave was helping Lewis and the others out of the back. "I had the authority to order the men to retrieve Lewis. Daniels, well. Only Lewis could order that." He bit back another grin as Attwood paled.

"You son of a bitch," Peterson ground out, reaching for his weapon.

"Ah, ah, ah, detective. You'd be dead before it cleared the holster. We really don't want you dead." Wolf couldn't resist the grin this time. "Otherwise I'd have killed you all after Walter gave me the dirt on that facility."

"Good work, Wolf," Lewis said as he walked up. "Dr. Attwood, how…pleasant to see you again. Mr. Peterson." He nodded then turned to look at Tate and Parker as they came up behind him.

Wolf smirked at Sloan's horrified expression. "Now aren't you sorry you weren't nicer to me, Sloan?" he asked. "You could have had your own personal prot…" he subsided under the cutting edge of Lewis' icy glare.

"That's enough. Our guests have nothing to fear from us at this time. They have no need of your protection, personal or otherwise."

"Yes sir," Wolf said, his voice sounding subdued even to his own ears.

"Walter," Sloan began. "In the future, we don't trust your contacts…_any_ of your contacts. I knew I'd felt that itch before."

"An itch, Sloan?" Lewis asked.

"Forget it."

"I don't think so, I'm…fascinated. Do you feel this itch only in the presence of my people?"

"That depends. Were all of the mercenaries except the blonde 'your people'?"

Lewis eyes narrowed in what Wolf recognized as respect. "Quite correct. We need to discuss this further." He looked around to include the others in the conversation. "Follow me and I'll have quarters arranged for you."

... ...

Sloan darted an angry glare at Walter. This was all his fault. He'd sold them out, first to the CIA, and now to the new species. Great, just great. And they weren't any closer to saving Tom. It seemed that only Lewis could give the orders that would make that happen. She quickened her pace to catch up with him. He was moving awfully swiftly for a man with broken ribs.

"What about Tom?" she demanded as the hall opened up into what appeared to be a central living area.

"What about him, indeed."

"Are you going to retrieve him, or not?"

Lewis turned on his heel and leveled what would normally be a quelling gaze on her. His only problem was that she was too pissed now for it to work. He sighed with what she supposed was patience. "The matter is being considered…" he held up a hand as she started to interrupt. "You need to understand, Dr. Parker. I am acting directly against the orders issued by my government. Thanks in no small part to your team," he said, gesturing at the four of them. "I am currently persona non-grata with them. I must be very careful. Every action I take will be scrutinized, and if I fail again…well, one failure was less than tolerated, two failures would be…grounds for an active termination order."

"You're afraid," she accused.

"I am cautious," he returned. "Tom Daniels is valuable to me. He was my finest student, and he was my…had great potential. I've already risked my reputation by allowing him to live. I will weigh the chances of success very carefully before I risk my life for his freedom with no guarantee that I will be able to convince him that his place is with our people."

"You'll let him die like that young man they vivisected?"

Lewis stared at her; his expression flickered briefly into something almost like pain before the cold calm returned. "If I find that to be the wisest course to ensure my own survival, yes, I will."


	4. Chapter 4

Ed lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with his forearm. This was a nightmare. Besides having his feet hanging over the edge of the too short bed, Tom was still hidden away somewhere, another of Walter's contacts had betrayed them, and the only person it appeared that they could trust to any degree was…Lewis. He chuckled softly. How incredibly ironic. Walter and Ray were in rooms down the hall, and Sloan had been given a room with a private bath across the hall from his. She had collapsed into her bed almost immediately, and if he went to her door, Ed knew that he would hear her sobbing. The horror of the past ten days was finally getting to her.

He figured that she probably could have handled everything else if she hadn't seen what Burns' so called researchers had done to that one young dominant. But now she was faced with the image of that happening to Tom. Ed shuddered. That ghastly incision was haunting him too. A tap sounded on his door, and he looked up in time to see Wolf slip inside. Great, he thought, a visit from the grinning idiot. "What do you want?"

For a change, Wolf was not grinning. "To ask your advice."

Ed snorted. "Right."

"To get your opinion, then," Wolf shrugged. "Just tell me what I need to know."

"What?"

"Do you believe humans and my people can coexist?"

Sitting up and leaning against the wall, Ed pondered the question. "I'm not really sure. I don't know enough about your people and I don't know enough _of _your people."

Wolf pursed his mouth and nodded. "Okay, that's fair. But what is your gut instinct?"

"Ah, hell. It depends, ya know. If most of your people are like Tom or like that teenager we met, then yes. I think it could work. But if more of them are like Lewis, that Lisa chick, or like Randall Lynch, then no. No way in hell."

"What if they're like me?"

Ed stared at him in dismay. "Please tell me they're not."

Wolf laughed soundlessly. "Okay, I deserved that. Seriously, though. Most of our people don't want anything more than anyone else. They want to live, they want to be accepted, and they want to be successful." He paused to frown in thought for a moment. "Of course, right now our standards of success are kind of out there, you know, with this war and the movement and all."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Yours."

"Come on…"

"No, really. Your government has been exterminating our people systematically for decades."

"Wait a minute, you mean they've known about you for…"

"Known about us? Hell, Tate, they _created_ us."

"Oh dear God. It wasn't evolution or global warming…"

"You got it. It was a Super-Soldier project gone wrong. America's answer to the Nazi's 'Master Race'. Mostly selective breeding, then factor in some experimental genetic manipulation in the fifties…"

"No way, the biological sciences weren't that advanced."

"The science that the masses are allowed access to wasn't that advanced. You'd be surprised, hell, you'd piss your pants if you knew just what some of the government think tanks have come up with."

"Holy shit. Huh. I take it the multiple uteri were part of the genetic manipulation?"

"Yeah. It wasn't a really good idea. Sure, you get more children, at least theoretically. But there are more complications, more stillbirths and deaths of the mother in labor. Having multiple births in one uterus is safer both for the mother and the offspring. We're working on that."

"Damn."

"So, do you think…?"

Ed looked up and took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "Wolf, I don't think we've got a choice. I don't know what your scientists believe, but based on what you've just told me, I don't see any evidence that you're viable as a unique species. You need to coexist to survive. And we, well, since we created your people, we have a moral obligation to coexist with you, to accept you. The question is; how do we get everyone on both sides to buy it?"

Wolf straightened up from the half-crouched position he'd assumed during their talk and grinned. "Don't know yet," he said as he started to leave. "But it's gonna take one hell of a salesman."

"Hey, Wolf," Ed called out before Wolf had closed the door.

"Yeah?" The dominant came back into the room.

"Why did you want to know?"

Wolf sighed and closed the door again. "Lewis will be going after Daniels, no matter what he might say to torture Sloan. He's every bit as important to Lewis as he is to me."

"Wait a minute, Tom's important to you? Since when?"

"Always was. Has Tom told you about Mentors?"

"Sort of. He told Sloan that Lewis was his Mentor."

"Yes. Well, Tom is my Mentor."

"Oh. So why does that make him so important to you, let alone to Lewis?"

Wolf looked distinctly uncomfortable and stared at the floor for a few minutes before deciding to speak. "Not all Chameleons are mentored. Only the best are, and they are only mentored by the best." He shrugged. "Mentoring is an intensely personal thing. You either bond with your Mentor or your Student, or you grow to hate them enough to kill them. I think the best human analogy is the bond between a father and son."

"So which is it?" Ed asked, struggling to keep the question casual.

"Neither one of us has any wish to kill Tom. If we did, he'd already be dead and we wouldn't be risking a termination order ourselves."

Ed frowned as reality of the situation suddenly coalesced in his mind. "You can't go back, can you? You or Lewis, you can't go back to your people."

Wolf's entire face became as expressionless as his eyes. "Score one for the double doc."

... ...

Sloan stared sightlessly at the beige wall of her room. Room, right. It was a cell, even if there were no locks or bars. Her eyes felt like they had been sprinkled with sand and she knew they were puffy and swollen. Damn Lewis, anyway. She rolled over onto her back with a sigh. It wasn't really fair to blame Lewis. None of this was really his fault. After all, if he hadn't sent Tom to watch and, if necessary, kill her, she and Tom would have never met, would never have fallen in love. Sloan whimpered as her throat closed up with tears again, and coughed as she tried to respond to the soft knock on the door. "Who is it?" she asked, cursing herself for the waver in her voice.

The door opened slightly. "It's Ed. Can I come in?"

"Sure." She dropped back down to her side on the bed and watched as Ed came inside, and hovered by the door.

"Hey."

"Hey," she echoed, managing to keep her voice light.

"It's going to be okay, you know."

How like Ed. No matter how dark the situation, he was always willing to insist that everything would be okay. She thought it had to do with that Zen surfing thing he was into. Sloan sighed. "How is it going to be okay, Ed? I want to believe it, I really do. But I have to know how."

He shrugged. "Would 'why' do?"

Hmm, he sounded serious, like he knew something. She sat up carefully and motioned to him to come closer. "Okay," she said as he dropped down on the foot of the bed. "Spill it."

"Had a visitor…Wolf. And before you say it, I think he was being real this time."

"I'll try to restrain my skepticism."

"Thanks," he said, his lips twisting with humor. "I've got some ideas that I want to think about, make sure I'm really understanding what's going on, but the crux of the thing is that Wolf is positive that Lewis will rescue Tom, even if it puts his own life on the line."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. There's some kind of Mentor/Student bond thing going on here. Oh, and get this. Tom was Wolf's Mentor, so Wolf is committed to this too."

"Ed…"

"I know, I know. But I really believe this. I gathered from Wolf that Lewis was just pulling your chain to be cruel when he made it sound like he might not try to save Tom."

"Now that sounds like Lewis."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait."

Sloan nodded. It made sense, as much as anything the dominants did. But why…? "Ed, why is Lewis keeping us alive?"

"Keeping his options open, I would think. Not destroying a potential resource."

"A potential resource? Oh, Ed."

"No, seriously. If they dumped us somewhere at the place Burns is keeping Tom, don't you think all her people would be occupied with catching us?"

"Or shooting us on sight."

"Yeah, maybe. Either way, that's a hell of a distraction, and Lewis doesn't risk any of his people to get it."

"True." Sloan tried to smile. From Ed's expression, she could tell that she was failing miserably. "You know what?"

"What?"

"If it came to that, I'd do it, and gladly."

"Do what?"

"I'd volunteer to be the distraction if it would get Tom free."

"Sloan, the bitch would have you killed once she found out, assuming they didn't shoot you on sight."

"It would be worth it."

"No, ah damn it." Ed moved down the bed and took her in his arms as she began to cry again. "Sloan Parker, do you want Tom to go through the rest of his life feeling responsible for your death? Come on; that would kill him more horribly than anything Burns could dream up. He'd rather die than sacrifice you for his freedom."

"Jeez, Ed. You sound almost like Mom."

"Yeah?" he laughed.

"Yeah, I can just hear her saying 'Sloan Danielle Parker!"

"Huh? You don't have a middle name."

"I know. But my birth mother's name was Danielle and after I found that out I told Mom that I wished that I could have that as a middle name. So whenever I was in trouble or had done something especially wonderful…you know, those times that parents use your full name, she'd call me Sloan Danielle Parker."

"Hey, that's nice. How come you never told me that before?"

"Never came up. Consider yourself privileged. You're one of only four…three people alive that know that."

"Me, you…?"

She sighed and rested her cheek on Ed's collarbone. "Anne knew. She would have made four. And Tom knows. I'd been asking him about his name…and it just came up."

"Oh. Well, I'm in good company, then."

"Sure are."

... ...

Wolf frowned as he concentrated, trying to pick up on Lewis' mood. Nothing, as usual. Despite the beating he had taken, the master Chameleon's shields were solid. He shrugged, tapped on the door and entered. Lewis continued to study the plans and schematics Wolf had prepared for him, ignoring the intrusion for several minutes. "Tom taught you well," he finally said, looking up at Wolf.

"As you taught him."

Lewis nodded in acknowledgement of the implied compliment, and then tapped a section of the facility map. "This is our weak point. Unless we can obtain additional information…"

"I haven't shown this to Attwood yet. He might have some ideas about it."

"Yes, let's not waste our resources. Has everything else been prepared?"

Wolf smiled, showing teeth. "Of course. The…backup is undergoing sleep learning as we speak." Abruptly he sobered. "Do you think they'll buy it?"

"So long as there is total belief among the others, of course. That is the advantage of using uninformed humans as front men. Burns used that tactic to great advantage in dealing with the coexistence faction. Now while they, and we, would never allow ourselves to be caught by such a move…the Committee is unaware of the potential for deception." Lewis' eyebrow rose. "Particularly since they will not understand our involvement in the situation."

"They are fools," Wolf offered.

"No. Make no mistake, young Wolf. The Committee has knowledge and resources beyond your understanding. They are simply uninformed in this area."

Wolf stared at the floor, expecting to feel the lash of Lewis' contempt for his assumption. It didn't come. He looked up and found his Mentor's mentor gazing at him thoughtfully. "Sir?"

"You have concerns."

He shifted uncomfortably. "The woman will be hurt by this."

"She'll recover." Lewis frowned. "Why do you care?"

Shrugging, Wolf struggled to find an answer. "She…I…find her…attractive."

Both of Lewis' eyebrows shot up. "Dr. Parker? Hmm, what is it about this woman? First Tom, now you? Have I failed in some way with your training?"

"Of course not. She simply…fascinates. There is something about her…the strength of her emotions, I suppose."

"You've invested years of training in suppressing emotional reactions, eliminating them from your cognitive processes to improve your survival skills."

"Yes. That's probably why." He shrugged again. "You know; the forbidden fruit."

"Indeed. I suggest you stop reading her so closely then, reduce the temptation."

"But that's just it, sir. Her emotions bombard me even when I'm not reading her. Being near her is like being in…an emotion charged fog."

"I see. Then perhaps what I've sensed from her isn't over emotionalism. She seems to be able to identify us somehow and she is certainly an intuitive scientist. She might also be projecting her emotions at some subconscious level."

"But that's a very difficult skill to learn."

"Yes, nearly impossible. I've managed it, as has Tom."

"I'm still working on it."

"And you've made good progress from what I understand. But I believe that Dr. Parker is simply doing it…like an idiot savant calculates mathematical equations, totally without understanding what she's accomplished."

Wolf nodded. That did fit. It would explain a great deal about his attraction to the human woman…not to mention Tom's.

... ...

"How can you just sit there like that?" Ray Peterson complained as he paced the common living area. "We have no idea what's happening, we're no closer to recovering Daniels…"

"Ray," Walter interrupted. "Sit down. You're going to give yourself an ulcer, or worse." He looked up as the former police detective subsided and dropped down in the armchair. "You're absolutely right, but there is nothing we can do until our hosts decide to inform us of their plans."

"If they make any plans. You heard Lewis. He might decide it's too damn risky."

"I heard him, however I don't believe him. He's gone to far too much trouble to get Tom back to leave him in captivity now. I may not understand why he wants him back and alive and well at that, but I am certain that is what he wants."

Ray sighed. "Is that as certain as your trust in your contacts has been?"

Walter winced. "I never said I trusted my contacts. But in each case, I had little other choice. Alison Burns' actions surprised me far less than Wolf's. That young man is a consummate actor."

"Probably one of those damned Chameleons. Tom went and fooled the entire LAPD, not to mention the local FBI office."

"Tom fooled the entire FBI, not just the locals. The only reason I knew he wasn't really FBI was because I knew that the FBI had been ordered not to interfere with Anne Coulter's work or involve themselves with anything that happened in her lab. Even if he had only shown up after the murder, his presence would have told me that either his FBI credentials were not legitimate, or that he was a rogue agent, following his own agenda."

"So which was it?"

"A bit of both. There is, in fact, a Tom Daniels with the FBI. However, he pops up in places just barely too far apart for the amount of travel time between the incidents. That makes it almost impossible for him to be one person. And his photograph is suspiciously dated in comparison to the rest of the electronic personnel file, as though it has been replaced at least once since the file was first uploaded. After realizing who and what our Tom was, I did a little investigating…there are a number of Special Agents that fit that same profile."

"You're saying the FBI has been infiltrated, and pretty thoroughly, by this new species?"

Walter smiled sourly. "Not just the FBI. I alerted John, and he called me just before the fecal matter hit the rotating device over the coexistence faction. There are similar discrepancies throughout the Intelligence Community, _and _in the Armed Forces." He gave the former cop a sly look. "And I wouldn't take bets on it not happening in Police Departments all over the country, if not worldwide."

"Holy Jesus. We're screwed."

Nodding, Walter said, "That sums it up nicely." He looked up as the door leading to the off-limits parts of the complex opened.

"Hey, no one's allowed to get screwed around here while I'm enduring forced celibacy," Wolf complained.

"Excuse me if I neglect to show appropriate sympathy," Walter murmured. "You really shouldn't listen in on private conversations, let alone jump in on them."

Wolf shrugged. "I find it kind of entertaining."

Ray snorted and Walter found himself shaking his head at the man's audacity. "What do you want, Wolf?"

"Hey, I have to want something? Walter, I thought we were buddies?"

Walter stared at him impassively.

"Ooookay. Fine. I do a man a favor, and this is the thanks I get."

"You haven't done me the favor yet, Wolf. If I recall correctly, so far the only favor done has been the one we did you in helping to free your leader."

"And you know what? I haven't properly thanked you for that." Wolf stepped closer and grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly. "Thank you Dr. Attwood. You saved many lives."

Walter retrieved his hand, glaring at the young dominant. "At the expense of whose, though?"

"No, seriously Walter. I know you don't believe me but Lewis is actually responsible for keeping a lid on the violence level. He thinks it's wasteful to kill unnecessarily. After all, we're gonna need you all as a labor pool once we're running things," he finished with a grin. "Okay, okay, so that last part wasn't entirely serious. But I do mean that about the violence."

"Wolf, we've seen him shoot his own people, simply to perpetrate a deception."

"What? Oh, hell. You mean Lisa. Shit, she was going to kill Tom if Lewis didn't. Then she would have tried to kill Lewis. Those were her orders."

"From whom?"

Wolf grinned. "From the people who give Lewis orders. Sorry, not going further than that. I've already let my mouth run off too much with you people."

"Can the crap, Wolf. What are you here for?" Ray asked, his voice brimming with annoyance.

"Well, I want Walter to look at some schematics of the facility where Tom is being kept. There's an area we can't get any information about and I'm hoping that Walter might have a few good guesses as to what goes on there and what kind of security we can expect in it. We have this thing about having to go in blindly to rescue someone. Makes us a tad surly."

Walter bit back a laugh. "I see. You all do it often, then."

"Oh, that hurts, Walter," Wolf said, dramatically pressing his right hand over his heart. "And here I thought I was a real easygoing guy."

He let the laugh out. "Wolf, you are an original. That I will say for you. Now let's look at your schematics, shall we?"

... ...

Sloan sighed as she bit into the overstuffed taco. She had to admit, Lewis' people knew Mexican cuisine; she hadn't had food this good since her favorite lunch spot was forced out of business by some corporate hotshot that wanted to build a parking garage. Ignoring the guacamole that oozed down her fingers, she savored the spicy mouthful.

"Sloan, you're leaking that green stuff all over."

She wrinkled her nose at Ed, otherwise ignoring him.

"Aw, jeez." He reached over and wiped her hand with a napkin. "You're gonna give us normal humans a bad rep."

Carefully putting the taco down on the plate, she swallowed. "Ed, tacos are best when they're messy. It's like pizza. If it's not messy, it probably isn't very good."

"Lay off the pizza…"

"I know, I know, it's the food of the gods," she told him.

"See, you knew that."

"Honestly." She was scooping up the taco again when that itch she hadn't been able to shake since they'd rescued Lewis suddenly intensified. She decided to leave the taco on the plate. It was a good call.

"Well, Dr. Parker, Dr. Tate. Are you enjoying your meal?" Lewis asked; the joviality in his voice not quite obviously forced.

"We were," she told him. "Why? Is it our last?"

He frowned, shaking his head. She waited for the mock sadness to appear. Sure enough, he didn't disappoint her. "I'm surprised that you could think such a thing, Sloan."

She sighed. "Lewis, I've got your number, okay. Just be straight with us for a change…if you're capable of it."

His frown was sharper this time. "Fine, Sloan. You want straight? I was attempting to be polite to an ally; I should have realized that was wasted on a human." She flushed as he pulled a chair out and sat down. "I've decided to proceed with an attempt to retrieve Tom. I'd thought you might be pleased to hear about it."

Biting her lip, she forced herself to meet his intense blue eyes. "Yes, I am pleased."

"Pleased enough to assist?"

She raised her chin. "Absolutely."

Lewis smiled; the effect was like that of a puma baring its fangs. "Without even asking what it is I wish you to do? I'm impressed."

"I would do anything to ensure Tom's safety," she grated. "Anything."

He sat back in the chair, the fire in his eyes cooling somewhat. "I believe that you would do _anything_. However, what I have in mind is not terribly dangerous, or even onerous. I want you available, offsite until we've secured the facility as you were during my retrieval, in case Tom is injured. He'll need to see someone he trusts if that is the case, and I'm not certain he will trust any of my people." He looked over at Ed who was unconcernedly scooping up a forkful of beans. "You, too, Dr. Tate. Our physician needs to remain with our other injured, particularly the head injury. They've drained the site of the hematoma, but these things need to be carefully watched. Will you lend your expertise to the mission?"

"Of course."

"Ah, Dr. Attwood, Mr. Peterson. Excellent timing," Lewis said as the two men entered from the living area. The false joviality was back in his voice. "I've just asked Sloan and Ed…I may call you Ed? Good. I've asked them to man the medical vehicle for our rescue attempt. Will you join them?"

Sloan watched Walter and Ray exchange glances and shrugs. "I don't see why not," Walter agreed.

"Then it's settled. We'll be leaving shortly after sunset…ah, at approximately seven this evening. Enjoy your afternoon; perhaps take a nap. There won't be much chance for sleep tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Ed laid out the trauma supplies…again. This trip had a distinctly different feel than the last. For one thing, they were expecting only one patient. Lewis had told them to expect more mental than physical trauma. He had it on good authority that Burns' people were attempting to break Tom psychologically since they knew that breaking him physically would result in nothing but his death. He looked at the others. Sloan was sitting on the edge of her seat, rocking slightly. She'd been given a sleeping pill that afternoon at his request. While she'd bitched at taking it, she'd thanked him when she woke up. Ray was slouched on the bench looking particularly glum. The only one of them that looked both relaxed and alert was Walter.

The truck had stopped moving a good half-hour ago. He could only assume that Wolf and the rest of Lewis' men were doing their infiltration thing. It was going to be a long night. Ed finally stretched out on the table, bracing his legs against the truck wall. He'd dozed off and almost fell when the door started to open. He heard Wolf's voice directing unseen others to 'move it', and in a few moments several men were handed up into the truck, the door was closed and the truck started moving.

Working with almost military precision, Ed triaged the four obviously wounded patients and began issuing instructions for their care. Walter helped Sloan apply bandages to bullet grazes, and Ray helped him set a broken bone. He removed eight, count 'em, eight slugs, and stitched up the wounds. He shuddered when he thought about what the other side must look like.

Sighing, he moved over to the last man who was sitting on the floor, huddled in a blanket and shivering. Ed bent down and put a hand on the man's shoulder, he flinched and pulled away. "Hey, buddy, it's okay. We're here to help you." He reached out carefully to pull away the blanket. "Oh dear God. Sloan, get over here."

"What is it?" she asked, turning away from her designated patient.

"Slooan?" the man said slowly.

"Oh my God, Tom!" Ed moved out of the way as she threw her arms around Tom's shoulders. "Oh Tom, you're safe! Oh thank God."

"Sloan, is it really you?" Tom asked brokenly. Ed winced at the pain in his voice.

... ...

Sloan looked up as the truck came to a halt. Tom was still huddled against her shoulder, though the shaking had stilled. He'd been able to tolerate Ed's touch for a brief examination. Other than a few bruises and some dehydration, Ed had pronounced him physically fit. That was one blessing. She'd been imagining all sorts of potential injuries. Her eyes closed briefly as she gave silent thanks.

The door opened and she heard Wolf giving orders. Some of his men came to retrieve the injured. Finally, Wolf and Lewis stood at the door, watching her and Tom expectantly. "Tom," she said. "We're here. It's time to get out of the truck."

"Where's here?" he asked.

"A safe place. It's okay."

He pushed aside the blanket and looked around, stiffening as he saw the two dominants in the doorway. "What are they doing here?" he asked.

"They rescued you."

"You can't trust them, Sloan."

She smiled. "I know, they're dangerous men."

"Yes," he said, then moved to stand.

Sloan watched with her heart in her mouth as he struggled to his feet. He waved off Ed's offer of assistance, his expression irritated.

"I can do it. I'm not an invalid."

"Didn't think you were. But you've been sitting on the floor for a couple of hours, I'd sure be stiff after that," Ed said easily.

Tom stretched and stared at the taller man. He nodded. "Sorry. I guess this…situation has left me a bit touchy. They kept me kind of…helpless, you know?"

"Yeah, that _would_ rankle, wouldn't it?"

"It does. Thanks for understanding."

Ed grinned. "Anytime, man."

"Tom, we need to talk," Lewis interrupted.

Tom turned and stared at him, his brow furrowed. "We have nothing to talk about, Lewis."

"Is that anyway to treat your savior?"

"Pretentious, as always."

"Really, Tom. You should show some gratitude. If it weren't for me, you'd still be rotting under Alison Burns' tender care."

"Hmm." Tom frowned suddenly, his head tilted to the side. "And just who is responsible for _your_ release, Lewis?"

"Wolf, of course."

"Wolf had help," Sloan spoke up. "He wouldn't have been able to get you out without Walter's information."

She heard Tom begin to chuckle at Lewis' discomfited look. "Well, Lewis. Seems we're even."

"Perhaps. But we do need to talk…about the future. Your future…and perhaps your past."

"You know, Lewis, I don't care what future you had planned for me. And I remember my past. The isolation and sensory deprivation loosened the holds on the memory blocks. I had all my energy and nowhere to direct it but inwards. I remember _everything_."

"Then you know you belong with us."

"I know no such thing. You're the past, a dinosaur. Your time is over."

"Mine isn't," Wolf said quietly. "My training is incomplete. I need my Mentor."

Tom hesitated, and then turned to Sloan. "Sloan. I…" he broke off with a sigh. "We'll talk," he told Wolf. "But later."

"Soon. Please."

"Soon enough. I need a bath, food, and rest. Then we can talk."

Wolf nodded. "Reasonable." He exchanged glances with Lewis, who nodded his own agreement. "This way."

... ...

Ed watched Tom tuck away the food almost mechanically. Whatever was put within reach was systematically examined, sniffed, and consumed. It was as though he had never seen food before. "Uh, Tom? You might want to slow down. You're gonna end up sick if you eat much more."

"Really? Huh, well, you're the doctor?" Tom pushed the plate away with a burp. "It's been so long since I've really eaten. I guess I'm trying to rebuild my reserves all at one sitting?" His sudden grin reminded Ed of the charm Tom had shown when they had first started to become friends over Chinese take-out. "Not very bright, hmm?"

"Well, I can understand the urge. After I got over the Spanish flu and was finally back on solid food I damn near emptied my fridge…AND I ordered in pizza."

Tom began to laugh. "That was just what you needed, I'm sure."

Ed shrugged. "I thought so at the time. Ended up bent over the toilet thinking I'd had a relapse. Turned out it was just a case of my eyes being bigger than my stomach." He looked up as Sloan returned from her room. "Hey, you feeling more human?"

"Yes, much." She walked around the table and sat down next to Tom who was looking confused. "What's wrong, Tom?"

"I don't understand. How can you feel more human…or less?"

"It's just a figure of speech."

"Oh. Sorry. I'm still feeling pretty disoriented."

"That's understandable. Don't worry about it."

"I _am_ worrying about it, Sloan. I have my old memories now, everything that was blocked is restored…but the things that weren't blocked and my recent memories are…spotty. I know they're there; I just can't seem to hold onto them. Do you know what I mean? It's like when you can almost but not quite remember a word or someone's name."

"When it's on the tip of your tongue?"

Tom grabbed Sloan's hands. "Yes! That's it, exactly. I _know_ something, but just can't bring it to the front of my mind. It's so incredibly frustrating!"

"Sounds like a symptom, to me," Ray said from the hallway entrance. He glanced over his shoulder at Walter. "You ever run into folks with…"

"PTSD," Walter finished for him. "Yes." They walked into the dining area. "Tom, don't try to force anything. You need to recover from the trauma you experienced. Do your people have counselors for that kind of thing? Psychologists?"

Tom sighed. "That's what our Mentors are for. Or your trainer, if you don't have a Mentor." He looked up. "Ed, you ever do any Psych studies?"

"Nope, not unless you include Psych 101 as a freshman undergrad. This is way out of my league."

"Well, I'm not letting Lewis get into my head, so I'm just going to have to work it out on my own."

"Maybe I can help, Tom," Ray offered. "I knew a lot of guys in the service and on the force with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Had to take a lot of classes on it when I became a peer counseling volunteer down at the VA."

"Thanks, Ray. I'd like to try that, if you don't mind."

Ray scuffed his foot on the floor. "Not at all. Be an honor," he mumbled.

... ...

"That went well," Wolf commented.

Lewis nodded. "Yes. I'm pleased. He needs a little time to orient himself then I'm certain things will go as they should."

"They'll ask to leave soon."

"Of course. Dr. Attwood will still have access to a safe house for them. And he no doubt has hopes that the coexistence faction will contact him." Lewis frowned as he scanned a report that had just arrived in his email. "The Committee is pushing my people for information. They have yet to learn patience."

"Then they will ultimately fail."

"True. Speaking of patience, how is our patient coming along?"

Wolf winced at the horrible pun. "Slowly. The injuries were more serious than we'd projected. The psyche is intact, though."

"Good. And the programming?"

"Gone, all of it, just as you expected."

"Then we can start at the beginning."

"Is it necessary?" Wolf took an involuntary step back at Lewis' sudden glare. "We are walking a new path. We need our finest strategic minds to focus on this new direction. Programming inhibits abstract thought."

"It also promotes loyalty."

"No," Wolf said firmly. "It promotes obedience. Loyalty must be earned, it cannot be programmed."

"And you think I have not earned loyalty?"

"I think your distrust cost you loyalty."

"Take care, Wolf. Don't assume I have sentiment for you."

"I don't. But you have no one else willing to tell you the truth." He forced himself to stand stoically as he felt Lewis' anger build.

"Tom's betrayal is my own fault?"

"Did Tom betray you? Or did he realize that we were on the wrong path?"

"He allowed me to be captured."

"Only after you attempted to force him to kill the woman he considers his own…twice, no less."

Lewis sat back in his chair, his face settling into thoughtful lines. "He didn't even kill Lisa when he had the opportunity," he mused. "Nor did he force her to betray us." His hand formed and re-formed a fist, the knuckles whitening then relaxing.

Wolf allowed himself to breathe. "And he didn't kill you."

"He is my Student."

"Exactly. One that still honors his Mentor."

"As you honor yours?"

"I make no secret of that. I've told you my opinion on the Committee's decision to prepare for war, covert or outright. We need other options."

Lewis stood abruptly. "Yes. We do."

... ...

"But it was my fault, Ray. I insisted on testing the serum, it made me weak."

"Tom, did you take that shot saying to yourself, 'I want to be kidnapped, tortured, and abused?"

"Of course not."

"Did you harm any of those people before they kidnapped you?"

"No."

"Were you their enemy?"

"No, well, not personally. Certainly not then."

"Then it's not your fault. It's a shitty thing that happened to you, no more and no less."

"But I failed Sloan."

"How?"

"By letting myself get captured. I'd promised I could keep her safe, and I'd promised that I'd never leave her."

"Okay, back to when you got that shot…did you say…"

"No, Ray. I…I just feel there must have been something I could have done, something I could have said that would have prevented it."

"Trust me on this, Tom. There wasn't a damn thing you could have done to change it."

"I could have not taken the shot," he said stubbornly.

Ray sighed. Tom was going around in circles with the guilt. It was very typical of the PTSD sufferer. "Okay. Let's say you didn't take the shot. Then who would have tested it? Who would have made Ed see that genogenesis was wrong for use as a weapon, even as a defensive one?"

"I don't know."

"No one, that's who. You did a fine thing, a damn _courageous _thing. And some sick bastards took advantage of you. Whose fault is that?"

Tom frowned. "I…I don't know."

"Is it Ed's fault?"

"No. Of course not."

"Mine?" Ray nodded as Tom shook his head. "How about Walter? Was it his fault?"

"No."

"Maybe it was Sloan's fault?" Ray prepared himself for an outburst and wasn't disappointed.

"No! How can you say that?" Tom threw himself at Ray, coming to a halt only when his hands closed around Ray's neck. "I…I'm sorry." The hands dropped away. "Ray, I didn't mean…"

"I know, Tom. I was pushing you into reacting, into getting angry at someone besides yourself."

"That wasn't very wise. I could have killed you, and fairly easily."

"Ah, but you didn't. I trust you Tom." And he had, even though it had been the most difficult thing he had done in his life. "Would I have trusted you if this were your fault?"

Tom dropped back into his chair, his blue-gray eyes clouding over. He sat that way, brooding for several minutes. Ray waited patiently. Tom's head tilted, he shook his head, evidently having some sort of inner conversation with himself. Ray had seen this kind of thing before. Finally, a good half-hour later, he looked up to meet Ray's eyes. "Maybe it wasn't my fault."

"Maybe?"

Tom flushed. "Okay, okay. It wasn't my fault," he mumbled.

"Uh, uh. Say it like you believe it."

"It was _not_ my fault."

"That's better, but you need to keep saying it, make sure you remember it."

"I will."

"Yeah, you will, or I'll sic Sloan on you," Ray grinned.

"Oh no, not that. Have mercy," Tom pleaded, beginning to smile himself.

"Hell no. I'm not gonna get in her way, she's _your_ girlfriend."

Tom's smile vanished as his mouth dropped open. Ray held his breath; afraid he'd screwed up. Suddenly the smile was back and Tom was chuckling. Yes, I guess she is, at that." He shook his head, a look of wonder dawning on his face. "Hey, Ray. I've got a girlfriend!"

Ray laughed in relief. It was going to be okay. "Yeah, you do. Guess you guys don't usually do girlfriends, huh?"

"No. It's not efficient," Tom managed between chuckles. "Lewis is going to have a fit."

"Lewis? What's he got to do with it?"

Tom's chuckles subsided into a calm smile. "He's still my Mentor, Ray. Don't worry about it. He can't make my decisions for me, no matter what he might like to think."

"He could program you again."

"No, actually, he can't. The programming I was under is gone. He'd have to get my active cooperation to begin new programming."

"But last time…"

"He was triggering existing programming, so he was able to add new without my permission. It's different now. Trust me."

"Hey, I do. I let you attack me."

"Yes." Tom nodded thoughtfully, and then held out his hand, his expression a mixture of wariness and hope. Ray reached out and took it in a firm grasp. "Thank you, Ray. Ed and Walter have given me their friendship and trust. But you, yours means the most to me."

"Because I trusted you the least?"

"Because you have more to lose. You trust me when you have a family to protect."

...

Sloan smiled, cuddling up against Tom's side. He was sleeping peacefully tonight. His talks with Ray were finally helping. She watched as he sighed, his long dark lashes fluttering on his cheeks. His hair was growing out a bit. One section above his left eye was beginning to show a definite curl.

Her fingers moved almost involuntarily to caress the errant strands, tracing the curl. She gasped as his hand closed painfully around her wrist and his eyes shot open.

"Sloan?" The hand relaxed. "I…I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I knew you were still jumpy."

"Did I hurt you?"

She held her wrist up for him to see; turning it to show him it was uninjured. "No, I'm fine. Just startled."

"Good. I don't think I could stand it if I hurt you."

"Tom, you'd never hurt me, don't worry about it."

He shook his head. "Everyone keeps telling me not to worry."

She reached out to stroke his cheek with the back of her hand. "Well, then you should listen, right?"

"Yes. I'll try." She held her breath as he turned his head to kiss her hand.

"Oh, Tom." Sloan leaned forward, her mood brightening when he moved to meet her lips. She sank into the kiss, luxuriating in it then pulled back and away.

"Sloan, what's wrong?" he whispered.

"I…I'm not comfortable with this."

"What? Why?" He looked confused.

"Oh Tom, I'm sorry. I don't really understand it myself. I just…"

"Hmm. You still blame me."

"No! Absolutely not!"

He sighed, looking defeated.

"Tom, I mean it. It's not your fault. I…maybe it's this place. You know, I think that's it, I always get the feeling I'm being watched, you know?"

"Knowing Lewis, we probably are." His eyes sparkled; she could almost read the mischief in them. "Want to give him a show he'll never forget?"

"Tom! No! I…no!" She sat up and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "That…it should be private, an expression of love."

"Of course, I didn't mean…"

"I know, I know. But, making love here, well, that would be more an expression of defiance, don't you think?"

"Slo-oan."

"Well? Look, Tom, we've waited this long, I just want it to be right for us."

He stared up at her, his eyes wide and bright. "I do too."

"Good, then we'll wait."

His eyes closed and he groaned. "I'm definitely going to need to work on my self control." He turned to face away from her.

She frowned, her fingers moving to brush over the tattoo on his shoulder blade. "What happened?"

"To what?" he asked, looking back at her.

"Your tattoo, well, your whole shoulder blade, it feels funny."

"Oh, that. Burns' so-called scientists were trying to determine whether it was a tattoo or a brand and how long I'd had it. They lifted a couple of layers of skin."

"What? Oh for heaven's sake. Did they even ask you?"

"Yes, but since I didn't really remember at the time…"

"Damn it."

"Sloan, it's okay, it didn't really hurt."

"That is totally beside the point." She sighed and leaned against his back, rubbing her cheek against the roughened skin. "Did they come up with an answer, at least?"

Tom chuckled. "I knew the anthropologist in you wouldn't be able to resist knowing."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Forget it. That was totally insensitive."

"Ah, Sloan." His hands stroked her arms where they circled his waist. "I want you to know everything about me. It's a brand. Which made sense, it fit the memory flashes I was having of the fire and the man with the sticks."

"So what do you remember now that the block is gone?"

"He was my father, and a member of the Committee that governs our people. I'd passed a long series of tests, genetics, physical fitness, mental competence, and had been chosen for future leadership. He and my mother were terribly proud."

"What about you? How did you feel about it?"

"I felt…isolated. The other children began to withdraw from me. I was suddenly different, no longer one of them." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You, Sloan Parker, are one of a very small group that treats me as though I were normal. Thank you."

Sloan chuckled and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Tom. You are far from normal."

She frowned. "Hey, what happened to the 'Danielle'?" He'd always used her 'middle' name since hearing the story behind it.

"Danielle who?"

"Tom! You know; my middle name!"

He turned in her arms to look at her; she could feel his confusion. "What are you talking about? You don't have a middle name. Your full legal name is Sloan Parker."

She stared at him in silent dismay.

"Sloan? What's wrong?"

Tears threatened, and she swallowed to force them back. "Don't you remember? I told you about my mother."

"Your mother?" He frowned, staring at her. "Your biological mother."

"Yes."

His brow furrowed and he pressed one hand to his temple, wincing in pain. "Sloan, I'm sorry. There's something…but I just can't…damn it! I hate this half remembering."

"Oh Tom, it's okay, don't worry…"

"Don't worry about it, yes, I know." He sighed, and cupped her face in his hand. "I'm so sorry. This was a confidence you entrusted to me and it was important to you. Please forgive me?"

"Of course!" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. After taking a long shuddering breath she pulled back. "Do you want me to tell you about it again?"

He smiled, tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her gently. "Ray says it will all come back to me as I recover. I think I'd rather rediscover it that way if you don't mind."

"Of course not. Oh, Tom. We've got so much to look forward to."

"Yes, we do."

... ...

Lewis looked around at the group of humans with Tom. They'd insisted on being present whenever he wished to talk to his Student. His lips twitched; he could understand their caution. There was much he could accomplish were he alone with Tom. But, since his agenda did not include programming, their presence was simply an irritation rather than a barrier. Interestingly enough, they had allowed Tom to meet privately with Wolf.

He couldn't contain his curiosity. "Why is it, Tom, that you met with Wolf alone but your entourage is present when you meet with me?"

"I asked them to be here."

His eyebrow shot up. This was Tom's idea? How…unexpected. "I'm hurt, Tom. Don't you trust me?"

"You know that I don't."

"I see." He shook his head, frowning to hide his mirth. "I'd hoped to discuss how you were feeling. Do you wish to share that with everyone?"

Tom smiled. "I'm feeling fine, Lewis. I've had several productive talks with my friends and that has helped me immensely."

Lewis frowned in earnest. Talking to the humans had helped Tom to deal with the programming and incarceration trauma he remembered? Interesting and disturbing. "Well, then all that remains is to plan for your future."

"I've done that, Lewis. My future lies with Sloan. I still have access to my funds, and we'll use them to make a new life for ourselves with the coexistence faction."

"I…see. What about your duties as Chosen?"

"My people have tried to kill me. I have to consider that as permission to abdicate my so-called duties."

"Their misguided attempts to kill you prove that they need you."

"That's their problem, not mine."

Lewis grimaced. "That is also my problem. _I_ need you, Tom. You are my finest Student. I'm not as young as I need to be to continue the push for my agenda. You were to take over for me in a few years."

"Then take over my responsibilities to Wolf. He'll be ready in a few years then he can take over for you."

"And if Wolf refuses?"

"You know that he won't." Tom sighed, shaking his head. "Lewis, you are my Mentor. I will always honor that bond. But part of being a Mentor is knowing when you can no longer direct your Student. That time has come. I must follow my own path and that path is no longer yours."

Lewis met Tom's eyes, staring into them, measuring what he saw for several long silent minutes. "Very well. I will take Wolf as my Student. Your responsibilities to him are ended. When will you be leaving us?"

"Walter is waiting for a call. Don't worry, the phone can't be traced, I checked it myself. Once the call is received we'll be leaving. I am assuming we can borrow a vehicle?"

"No. But I'll have someone drive you to a town we both decide will be convenient for you."

"Acceptable." Tom stood "I'll miss you, Lewis." He chuckled. "I can't believe I'm saying that, but now that I have my memories back, I know that it's true."

"As I will miss you, Tom. Be careful, the Committee wants you dead and if you go off on your own I will not be able to protect you."

"If I felt your protection was needed, I would stay. I can handle the Committee."

Lewis took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. "I hope you can, Tom. Regardless of my…disappointment with your decision, I do wish you well."

... ...

"So, you're leaving in the morning," Wolf said in her ear as she was about to take a sip of coffee.

"Don't _do_ that. I almost dropped my mug!"

"What's the matter, Dr. Parker, didn't you feel the itch as I approached?" He chuckled as she turned to glare at him.

"I feel it all the time here; I guess I'm getting used to it."

"Ah, of course. After all, you're, ah, _sleeping_ with an itch…after that kind of intimacy; just having one of us approach you must hardly be noticeable at all."

Sloan flushed at the implication. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down and force the color back out of her cheeks. "That's none of your business," she told him.

He laughed and she realized that she'd said too much. "What, you still haven't consummated your relationship with my Mentor? Come on, Dr. Parker; put the man out of his misery. Not to mention you out of yours." His eyebrow rose and he leaned closer, his unbound hair drifting forward to brush her face. "Or would you rather trade him in for a younger model, hmm? I could satisfy your needs very nicely."

"It will be a cold day in hell before I let you satisfy any of my _needs_."

"Oh, come on, Sloan. What's so special about Tom? I mean, as far as the man/woman thing. What does he have that I don't? Well, besides blue eyes and short hair. Hey, I'll wear contacts if it's the eyes that turn you on, but I'm not cutting the hair."

She pulled away from him, grinding her teeth in exasperation. "What he _has_ is my love. Something that _you_ wouldn't understand."

"Give me a chance, I'll learn. Tom had to learn."

"Wolf…"

"Just try it. I know, give me one kiss, and if that doesn't do it for you, I'll leave you alone." She glared at him. "Okay, how about a hug? No?" he said as she shook her head vehemently. "You know you want it," he cajoled, trailing long fingers down her cheek.

"No, I…" she gasped as he moved faster than her eye could follow, his arms snaking around her and his mouth descending upon hers in a fierce kiss.

"Wolf!" Tom's voice cut across the room like a lash. "Let go of her, _now_!"

Wolf pulled slightly away, but didn't let her go. "Aw, come on, Tom. It's just a kiss."

"A kiss she didn't want."

"Of course she did, she just…"

"Even you can feel her anger, Wolf. Let her go before I forget any ties we had."

Wolf stepped away, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. "Hell, Tom, if you're serious about the woman, you should lay claim to her and get it over with. Then no one would feel that she's available."

"No one else seems to be making an issue of it. They show respect."

"They show disinterest."

"Not at all. I've felt Lewis' interest," Tom said as he circled past Wolf to put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Are you all right, Sloan?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she told him, shuddering at the thought of Lewis being interested in her. Wolf was bad enough, but the thought of fending off someone as cold and calculating as Lewis…brrr.

Tom's hand squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry. No one will touch you again without your permission." He looked up. "Will they, my Wolf?"

"I'm not your Wolf any longer. You gave me away to Lewis."

Tom sighed. "I had no choice, you know that. The path I'm walking is not one that you've chosen."

"I _could_ choose it. Tom, you need someone to watch your back. The Committee is out for your blood."

"No. You need to choose peace only if you want peace, not to please me or to protect me. You have to believe in it and you do not.

Wolf stared at the floor, his fists clenching. "I'm not sure what I believe in, other than my Mentor."

"Lewis is your Mentor now."

"Lewis is taking on my Mentor's responsibilities. Tom Daniels will always be my Mentor," Wolf snarled, then stalked out of the room.

"Hmm, that went well."

"You're being sarcastic?" Sloan asked.

Tom chuckled. "Yes. You're getting good at reading my moods; I know that didn't show in my voice."

"Yes, I…I seem to be picking up a lot of moods lately. You know; I listen to people now, and I find myself making a game of figuring out how they're going to feel next. Or in some cases, pretend to feel."

"That's…great, Sloan. We should develop that; it could make a big difference to your safety."

"Tom, is Wolf right, is this Committee really out for your blood?"

"Yes, literally. Sloan, don't worry. Everything will be fine. We'll be meeting up with the coexistence faction. They will help with our security."

"I'll try not to let it get to me."

"Good. Let's get your things packed, hmm?"

... ...

Wolf stood quietly with Lewis as they watched the truck pull away. Once the dust cloud disappeared in the distance, they turned as one and reentered the underground complex. "He won't last long, you know."

"I know," Lewis agreed then shrugged. "It was their choice to leave."

"Yes. It's not enough that the Committee is waiting for them to resurface. What if the CIA finds them?"

"That would be annoying. However, I believe that Dr. Attwood can handle the CIA. He's actually quite competent."

Wolf stared at Lewis in surprise. "A compliment for a human?"

"He did manage to circumvent Alison Burns' desire to take Tom prisoner the first time."

"Yeah, that electric shock trick was pretty impressive. Weakened the programming enough for Sloan to reach him." Wolf chuckled. "Sure surprised your ass when her men moved in to arrest you."

Lewis glowered at him. "Betrayal is always a shock."

"It's not really betrayal, and you know it."

"Perhaps. How is our patient today?"

Wolf grinned. "Changing the subject?" His grin faded as he felt Lewis' annoyance growing. Shrugging, he reported, "There's been major improvement. He's ambulatory and physical therapy is progressing rapidly. His senses are recovering; he can pick up everyone in the immediate area now. There's no indication he's noticed _your_ presence though."

Lewis snorted. "With the amount of energy I've been expending on masking and shielding, I should hope not." He frowned as Wolf shifted from one foot to the other. "Go ahead, ask."

"I think I should follow them."

"The woman will survive or she will not. You cannot protect her."

"I'm thinking about other influences. What if Burns' people find them first? Attwood may be good, but if his people sell him out…"

"Hmm. Good point." Wolf watched as Lewis considered the matter. "Very well. I shouldn't have to tell you to stay out of sight, but I do feel it necessary to remind you not to compromise the mission to protect the woman."

Wolf sighed. "Understood. Don't worry. I'll be discrete."

"Fine. I'll have a word with our rehab staff and ensure their reports are delivered directly to me while you're gone. I want to speak with our patient as soon as he's stable."

... ...

**Author's Note:** Tom tended to make most sentences sound like a question when he was stressed in the TV series, even when they were not, in fact, a question. I've tried to recreate that effect in this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

Sloan couldn't help grinning as the car Walter's old school friend had loaned them sped down the highway. She and Tom were cuddled on the passenger side of the rear seat while Ray looked on indulgently. Walter was driving and Ed was stretched out beside him.

"How long until we get there?" she found herself asking, then chuckled at the question. "Heh, I sound like a little kid."

Walter's eyes briefly appeared in the rear-view mirror. "About four hours, Sloan."

"Thanks." She looked at Tom, and squeezed his hand. He pulled his gaze from the scenery whipping by and smiled absently. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly. "Nothing in particular. Just enjoying the feeling of freedom, I suppose."

"Oh," she said softly and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm just enjoying being with you and not being, well, with _them_."

Tom smiled and rubbed his jaw against her hair. "Yes. That is freedom to me right now."

"I hope this safe house has a private room for them," Ed said to Walter in a stage whisper."

"I heard that, Ed. Stop teasing me."

He twisted in the seat to grin at her. "Well, the way you're acting, how can I resist. All this lovey-dovey stuff is almost enough to rot the teeth."

She chuckled and swatted the arm he'd wrapped around the headrest. "Just you wait. One of these days you're going to fall in love and it will be open season on Ed Tate."

"I can't wait," he muttered, turning to face front again.

Sloan shook her head, settling back against Tom. He looked confused. "What's wrong?"

"How can love rot your teeth?"

"It's just an expression."

"But…"

"You know, because people in love act so sweet. It's Ed's way of telling me that the sweetness is kind of over the top."

"Yeah, I'd be in a lot of trouble if I were diabetic," Ed chimed in without turning around."

"Ed…you aren't helping," she muttered, watching Tom frown.

"Sorry, jeez."

"Okay, I think I get it," Tom said tentatively.

"Come on, Tom." Ed griped. "How did you get along doing all that undercover stuff as a Chameleon?

"Quite well, thank you."

"Yeah, but if you didn't get simple figures of speech…"

"Ed," Tom's voice was strained. "I'm sure I got them before, it's just…I don't know, I'm still having difficulties with day to day things. They just aren't clicking yet."

"Okay, I'm sorry."

Sloan reached up to stroke the hair back from Tom's temple and found the skin coated with a light sheen of sweat. "Hey," she murmured. "Relax, we're all friends here, we understand."

He sighed and nodded. "Thank you. I-I just wish _I _understood."

... ...

Walter smiled as the figure walking from the house became visible in the evening light. It was his friend Steve.

"Hey Walt, how was your trip?" he asked quietly, leaning down near the open car window.

"Good. Most importantly, uneventful."

"Yeah, no shit, after what you've been through." He straightened and looked around. "Everything's been quiet here, no strangers in the area. Had a talk with the neighbors, told them my cousin Art was bringing his daughter and his son-in-law here. So far as they're concerned, the son-in-law is recovering from a serious accident, so if your injured fella's outside, make sure he looks like he needs help walking, okay?"

"Sure. I can explain Ray as his physical therapist and Ed as his physician."

"Walter," Ed asked. "Why would someone have their physician living with them?"

"Steve's cousin is an eccentric and rather wealthy inventor, Ed. If he wanted his son-in-law to have the best care, he could afford to hire a private physician."

"And would, in an instant. But he's kind of cheap when it comes to the essentials. So he doesn't have any mansions or estates or anything like that. Hell, if he knew I had this house empty, he probably _would_ be asking me if he could live in it."

"Oh, well, that's cool," Ed decided.

"Nah, he's a real pain in the ass. I like Walt a hell of a lot better."

"Happily for us." Walter followed as Steven trotted up the driveway and opened the garage door. He pulled in, stopped the car and climbed out with a groan. "Remind me to take you up on the offer to share the driving next time," he said to Ray. They followed Steve into the house for a brief tour.

After leading them through the five-bedroom Old California style home, Stephen ended the tour in the foyer. "Well, that's about it. Walt, you have my number if you run into any problems with the place."

"Thank you, Steve. You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"Yeah, yeah. Just do me one favor, okay?"

"Name it."

"Don't get the place shot up or anything."

... ...

Sloan puttered around the kitchen. Steve had stocked it fairly well, but after the experience of cooking breakfast for four hungry men she had sent Walter out for more eggs and other breakfast foods. Ray had volunteered to take last night's watch so had gone to bed after the meal. Ed was out on the front lawn 'catching up on his tan', but he'd taken the 9mm automatic and one of the walkie-talkies with him.

They'd claimed rooms the night before and unpacked their few belongings. By general consensus the master bedroom with its king bed had been given to her and Tom. She'd blushed when Ed had pushed them into the room and closed the door behind them. Tom had managed to break the tension and make her laugh, teasing her about how tired they both were. After a single and rather chaste kiss they'd both fallen asleep.

She looked over her shoulder to where Tom was staring intently at the tabletop.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Hmm?" He looked up and frowned. "I-I'm not sure."

"Ooookay." She walked over to him and draped her arms around his neck to press her cheek to his. "Do you want to go outside maybe? Get some sun? You could keep Ed company while I wash dishes."

"No, let me do that. You did all the cooking."

"Tell you what. You wash, I'll dry then we'll both go outside for a while." She glanced out the back window. "We can go sit on the lounge chairs by the pool. That reminds me, if we're going to stay here a while, I want a swim suit."

Tom smiled slowly. "We could go skinny dipping at night," he suggested.

Her mouth dropped open and she barely held back an instinctive protest. "You know, that sounds like fun."

... ...

Tom grinned at the thought of Sloan dropping her inhibitions, not to mention her clothing, for a midnight swim. Maybe she'd relax enough for them to consummate their relationship. He shouldn't have left it so long, but his fear of endangering her after the incident in the motel had made him too cautious. The reason that he hadn't eventually pursued it further once Lewis had been arrested escaped him. Ah, well. It would all come back to him; Ray had assured him of it.

He stood; holding onto Sloan's hands so that she couldn't let go of his neck, then turned in her embrace. His hands slid along her arms, then down her sides and around her waist as he nuzzled her cheek and inhaled the freshly washed scent of her incredible hair.

"Mmm, nice," she murmured, tilting her head to give him access to her neck.

Taking the hint he kissed his way down to her shoulder and then back up again, finally moving down her jaw to claim her lips. The kiss was like coming home. He shuddered as she pulled back.

"Tom, later, okay? Let's get those dishes washed."

She'd done it again. He didn't understand why she kept pulling away every time their caresses became serious. Sloan claimed not to blame him for leaving her, she'd assured him repeatedly that it wasn't his fault, but each time he reached for intimacy, she would back off. It was becoming quite frustrating. Maybe he should talk to Ray about it. He was a happily married man; maybe he would understand why Sloan was acting this way.

He'd handed her the first of the washed dishes when Ed's voice came over the walkie-talkie. "Hey, you guys okay in there?"

Sloan put the dish in the cupboard and picked up the unit. "Yes, we're fine, Ed. You just checking in?"

"You're supposed to say 'over', Sloan," Tom reminded her.

"Well, he didn't." She lifted the walkie-talkie again and depressed the send button. "Over," she said, and then stuck her tongue out at him.

"I thought I saw some movement on the side of the house, but there's nothing out here. Uh, over."

Tom took the walkie-talkie from Sloan. "I'll check it out, Ed. Over." He released the send and handed it back to her. "Stay here. Where is your weapon?"

"Upstairs in our room."

"Sloan, you need to keep it with you." He sighed and pulled his .32 from its holster and handed it to her. "Take the safety off. If it's my people you won't have time to do it once you see them."

"Tom, you need this."

"Not as much as you do." He kissed her quickly and slipped out of the kitchen into the living room. A quick glance around assured him it was empty. The furniture was sparse and in contrast to the architecture was of a futuristic design that made using it as cover next to impossible. He tried opening the door to the garage; it was still locked.

As he started up the stairs he heard the café doors to the kitchen swing open. He glanced back at Sloan, disobedient as always, as she edged out into the living room. Deciding she was just as safe there as in the kitchen, he continued on up until he heard a distinctive snick. "Sloan, don't move! Not so much as a millimeter," he commanded.

She stood as still as a statue, her hazel eyes wide in her whitening face. "What is it?" she whispered as he joined her.

He groaned as he examined the trip wire that he'd missed in his too casual examination of the room. "It's a booby trap, Sloan. Stay calm while I figure out how to disarm it." He tried to keep his tone light. He recognized the design of the device. There would be no disarming it. Not only was the C4 rigged to explode if the trap was tripped, it would explode if an attempt was made to disengage it from the trip wire.

"Should I tell Ed what's happening?" Sloan whispered.

"You don't have to whisper, just don't move." He frowned as he examined the other end of the wire. The piece of furniture it was attached to was light and if the wrong amount of pressure were placed on the wire it would move, triggering the explosion. "Yes, tell him to come in and go wake up Ray and get him out of here while I work on this."

He only half-listened as Sloan updated Ed. Looking around the room he searched for something he could use to take up the pressure on the wire that was heavy enough to hold it without sliding. "What idiot mixes light weight Danish furniture with old-style Spanish architecture?" he muttered.

"Oh shit," he heard Ed say as the front door opened. "Can I help?"

"Just wake up Ray and get both of you out of here, across the street should be far enough. Oh, and don't let Walter pull into the driveway when he returns," Tom said from his position half under the table, reexamining that end of the wire.

"Got it. Think calm thoughts, Sloan. You've got a pro helping you, right?" "Right," she said, only a little nervousness coloring in her voice.

His Sloan was so incredibly brave, he thought, not for the first time. He sat back on his haunches, grimacing, looking up as Ed and Ray came down the stairs.

"Tom, why don't we call the bomb squad," Ray suggested as Ed urged him to the front door.

"Not until we're clear. Don't use the cell phones at all until then."

"The walkie-talkie…" Ed began.

"Is on a public frequency. They wouldn't have used that as a back-up trigger, too much chance of the explosion happening before they were ready for it."

"Oh."

He moved to one knee beside Sloan, pulling one of the chairs after him. "Ease back slowly when I tell you, Sloan." He edged the chair forward, keeping a grip on the table, slowly equalizing the pressure on the wire. "Slowly, begin now." She moved carefully and steadily back as he held his breath. The transfer was made. He looked up. "What are you two still doing in here? Sloan, go around the wire, and all of you get out of here so I can stabilize this thing."

He waited as Sloan carefully moved to the door then hesitated. "Ed, get her…"

"You've got it." Ed firmly grasped Sloan by the waist and pulled her to the door.

"No, Ed, I can't."

"Sloan, get out of here so I can concentrate, please." He stared at her until she nodded and let Ed urge her out the door. "Ray, you too."

"You need help."

"No, I need you to get clear, block the door open and make sure you are all across the street. Because of the weight of the furniture, I'm not going to be able to fully stabilize the wire, so I'm going to be running out of here at _my_ full speed. If anyone is in my way, we're both going to be seriously injured."

"Huh, like a human freight train, I imagine."

Tom smiled. "Thanks, Ray." He chuckled at the older man's confusion. "For calling me human."

"Hell, Tom…"

"Get out of here, and get them to the other side of the street. Yell when you get there."

Ray sighed, obviously unhappy. "You're the expert. I gotta trust in that. But damn it, you'd better make it, I don't want your girlfriend on my ass."

He smiled. "I look forward to saving you from that fate, friend." It was several long minutes before he heard Ray yell that they were all out of danger. Time to release the furniture and hope it would hold position long enough for him to get clear. He moved into a sprinter's starting posture, ready to leap the wire in a quick start and pour on the speed immediately. Okay, ease the grip on the chair…and go!

... ...

Ray stepped out into the street to wave Walter down.

"What's going on?"

"Tom's in there trying to get away from a booby trap. Someone waltzed in under our noses and rigged some C4."

"Did you call the bomb squad?" Walter asked, reaching for his cell phone.

"No! Tom's concerned they may have our cell frequencies as a back up trigger."

"Go to a neighbor's house and use their land line."

"Okay. Wait, here he comes…" Ray paused as a blur that could only be Tom seemed to fly through the open front door and across the lawn. He instinctively ducked behind the car as an explosion rocked the morning calm.

Walter sighed heavily. "Do you think Steve will consider this to be an 'or anything'?" he asked.

Ray didn't answer. He checked to see that Ed had a good grip on Sloan and then peered through the smoke and falling debris for a sign that Tom had cleared the blast perimeter. Sighing with relief he spotted a figure climbing to its feet and then continuing out of the expanding haze. It was Tom.

"Oh thank God!" he heard Sloan say before she burst into tears of relief.

"Amen," he agreed.

"I'm fine," Tom called out as he reached the sidewalk. He turned to look over his shoulder. "I guess calling the bomb squad would be pointless now?"

Ray chuckled. Tom really was fine if he could joke about it. He backed up so that Walter could get out of the car. He watched as Tom looked both ways and began to cross the street. A car engine turned over down the street, catching his attention. He frowned as a Ford Explorer with heavily tinted windows pulled away from the curb and headed towards them. "I don't like the looks of that," he muttered. "Tom, check that SUV!" he yelled.

Tom stared down the street and froze. "Move!" he called out to them. "Get out of here!"

Ray moved. He grabbed Ed and Sloan and shoved them towards the car and then watched in horror as a blossom of red appeared in Tom's forehead and he was flung to the ground by the impact of a high-powered round.

"Nooooo!" Sloan's shrill scream echoed in his ears. He was frozen in place. All his years in the Marines, his career on the force, seeing men and women killed in action, none of it had prepared him for the emotional shock of seeing a man killed immediately after celebrating his survival of an equally deadly situation. Ray felt the tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Oh dear God," he heard Walter say. Oh dear God, indeed.

... ...

"Oh dear God," Walter breathed as he watched Tom fall, fatally shot in the head. He leaned on the car, willing himself not to be sick. Tom had been slightly turned when the bullet struck and he'd been able to see the destruction as it exited. He shuddered, and then forced himself to move. He had to pull it together; they were all in danger.

Sloan was screaming, fighting Ed's hold on her. To his credit, the young man had firmly clutched Sloan to his body and was stoically enduring her kicking and scratching, refusing to let go. Well, not quite stoically. Walter could see the tears flowing down Ed's face. They were a good match for the ones he was forcing back.

Ray was weeping unashamedly; he'd gotten very close to Tom over the past week through his counseling sessions for Tom's stress disorder. Walter sighed. Lewis had warned them, but they'd thought…or was Lewis behind this?

A dark SUV careened down the street, and Walter forced himself to move urging Ed down to the ground with his flailing burden. He grabbed Ray and pulled him down as he moved for cover himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure run from between the houses behind them, carrying a sniper's rifle. The woman, he could barely tell that it _was_ a woman she was moving so fast, ran out to the SUV and jumped in one door. Two men leapt out of the other side, grabbed Tom's body and threw it in the back of the vehicle and climbed back in. The SUV's tires were screaming as it took off down the street.

Walter climbed tiredly to his feet and tried to think. Tom was dead and his murderers had stolen his body. Why? The shooter had been a dominant, no human could have moved so quickly. They had to know that the inter-agency research centers had completed autopsies on several dominant bodies by now, so why was it important to take Tom's?

"No, no, no, no, no, no…" Sloan was chanting and rocking back and forth on her heels. Ed was hovering over her, one hand on her shoulder as he wiped his face with the other.

He reached out to steady Ray as he pulled himself up using the car door. Ray looked up at him, his dark eyes beginning to harden with anger and determination. Good. At least two of them would be able to make rational decisions to get them to safety.

"We gotta get them out of here," Ray told him.

"Where and how? The enemy knows this vehicle."

"Unless we want to be explaining all this to the authorities," Ray began as sirens sounded in the distance. "Let's just get out of here and worry about changing cars and where we're going later."

"Good point." He looked over to where Ed was trying to comfort a hysterical Sloan. "Ed, get her in…" he broke off as a familiar van careened around the corner and came to a screeching halt in front of their car. He pulled out his Glock, determined to go out fighting.

The side door slid open, hitting the back of its track with a bang. "Get in," Wolf urged. "Let's get you out of here before they send in a back-up team."

Walter stared; the Glock still leveled at their sometime ally. "How do we know you aren't responsible for this?" he asked.

"Fuck, Walter, there's no time for this shit. The cops are coming." Wolf waited, snarling in frustration when they made no move to obey. Walter tensed as the dominant reached behind his back and carefully pulled out a Desert Eagle, holding it by the barrel. "Here, take it. Then you'll be armed, I won't. _Just get in_. They might not give a shit about the rest of you, but the Committee wants Dr. Parker dead."

Ray looked at Walter. "Up to you. Do we trust him?"

"It's not up to me," Walter sighed. "Sloan, it's your call," he said gently.

Sloan hiccuped as she stifled her sobs, then stood shakily and took a step towards Wolf. Walter held his breath. Suddenly she grabbed the large handgun and turned it on the startled dominant. "Were you part of this?" she demanded. "Did you help them kill Tom?"

... ...

"Absolutely not. Sloan, Tom is my Mentor; he means the world to me. I'd never intentionally harm him." He sighed and leaned forward so that the barrel of the Desert Eagle was pressed against his chest. "And I would never intentionally cause you grief. I swear it on my life, Sloan."

Her huge green eyes stared into his. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as she judged him. The sirens were getting closer; they had no more time! "Sloan, please. I can't get caught here. Come on!"

"Let's go," she told the others, then reversed the weapon and handed it back to him. He helped her and the men in and slammed the door shut as their driver pulled away and floored the accelerator.

Wolf settled back on his heels and looked around the darkened interior of the van. Walter and Ray had taken seats in the back; their hands weren't visible behind the middle seat, but he'd bet they hadn't holstered their hardware. Tate had one leg stretched across the middle seat, pretty much like he'd have sat if he'd been forced to get his long legs in there, but the human was leaning over the back of the seat in front of him. Sloan was huddled on the front passenger bench seat, back against the far wall, leaning against the arm Tate had draped around her shoulders.

He took a deep calming breath and ordered his thoughts. Picking up the humans wasn't what he'd intended. He'd just wanted to see for himself that Sloan had survived. But spotting the second team sent by the Committee had changed his plans. The way they were focused exclusively on Sloan told him that they were there to either kill or capture her and he was not about to allow it. He owed that to Tom.

"Where are we going, Wolf?" Walter asked.

Wolf grinned. "Somewhere else?" he offered. Blank and hostile stares answered him. "Look, I don't know. I had to get you out of there." He pulled himself up and into the seat beside Sloan. "Hey," he asked softly. "You hanging in there?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I just don't know." She looked up at him through a tangle of red curls. "Wolf, Tom's gone. He…he's really dead. They can't…he couldn't have…survived?"

He shook his head and reached for her and was slightly surprised when she moved willingly into his embrace. "No, Sloan. That was a fatal wound, I'm positive." His chest tightened when she began to cry and he felt her tears on his neck. "I am so sorry you had to see that," he told her, stroking her back. "It's hurt you so much."

Wolf looked back at the others as he felt a stab of resentment. It was Tate. "She doesn't need your comfort, Wolf," the doctor said. "She's got us."

"You held her back from her love," Wolf told him quietly. "She needs time to understand that you did the right thing before she'll accept comfort from you…from any of you." He bit back a smile as Tate flushed. That time she legitimately needed might give him time to win the woman's favor. And to give himself the opportunity…

"Will you take us to where we can meet our contact with the coexistence faction?" Walter asked.

"No."

"Wolf…"

"They don't want you, Walter. They never wanted any of you. Why do you think the Committee was so hot to kill Tom? The coexistence faction wanted him as a symbol, a rallying point. To have one of the Chosen, the son of a Committee leader who died a martyr, choose coexistence. That would have been quite a coup for them. Without Tom Daniels you are useless to them."

"I don't agree."

"Doesn't matter. It's what they think that counts."

"Then let's see what they think."

Wolf sighed audibly. "What about her?" he asked, glancing down at Sloan. "Are you going to risk her out in the open? Sorry, I can't allow that. I owe it to my Mentor."

Walter frowned and sat back. "Then what do you suggest?"

He shrugged. "I'll take you back to our complex. She'll be safe there."

"I'm sure Lewis will be thrilled."

Wolf glared at the scientist. He had a point. This could potentially disrupt Lewis' plans. "Ah, fuck Lewis. I'll handle him." He'd deal with it somehow, he thought. I owe it to Tom.


End file.
